


Welcome to the End of the Road

by HigherMagic



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Alpha Daryl Dixon, Alpha Negan (Walking Dead), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Belts, Blood, Blood and Violence, Bottom Rick Grimes, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Choking, Cutting, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Prostitution, Guns, Harm to Children, Infertility, Knives, Knotting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Omega Rick Grimes, Physical Abuse, Porn Video, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Psychosis, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Scenting, Scents & Smells, Separation Anxiety, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Daryl Dixon, Top Negan (Walking Dead), Torture, Video Cameras, Vomiting, Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-12-16 18:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: "Now I got a philosophical question for you, boys. You see, back in the old days – the ones that were 'good', y'know, when my grandpappy was still a pup – one Alpha takes over another's house, his land, whatever, he got to keep the Omegas and kids there too." Rick flinches when the bloody end of Negan's bat points towards him. "Now what happens if the sorry sonuvagun who's fallen is the Omega himself?"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So! A few notes;
> 
> This fic will have explicit, VERY DUBIOUS CONSENT Rick/Negan (as well as consensual, explicit Rick/Daryl). This fic takes place in the vague social structure of another fic of mine, "At the Mouth of the River", wherein it's normal for Alphas and Omegas to play-fight, Omega leadership is not super common, and the Alpha Voice is a thing, as well as an Omega's psychological dependence on some kind of Alpha interaction.
> 
> The story is established Rick/Daryl and that will be a continuous theme in the story, integral to the plot, and ultimate endgame. Nothing between Rick and Negan happens in this chapter except a small implicit paragraph, so if you're unsure you can get a feel for it in this chapter before forging on.
> 
> I've been toying with this story for a while, debating if I should write it, and eventually decided to just put it out there and see who bites. Enjoy!

"Now I got a philosophical question for you, boys. You see, back in the old days – the ones that were 'good', y'know, when my grandpappy was still a pup – one Alpha takes over another's house, his land, whatever, he got to keep the Omegas and kids there too."

Rick flinches when the bloody end of the Alpha's bat points towards him. He should try and be strong, try and stop the stink of fear and blood from affecting him, but he can't. He's trembling, frozen and weak, and he lifts his eyes.

The Alpha – Negan, he calls himself – grins at him, eyes red and fangs flashing. "Now what happens if the sorry sonuvabitch who's fallen is the Omega himself?"

Rick shivers, ducking his head again when Negan pushes the bat against his hair, forcing his head back down. Next to him, what remains of Abraham's skull is mocking him, chucks of bared teeth still visible in his broken skull. He licks his lips and tries to think of a way out of this that doesn't get them all killed.

"I'm – I'm not the leader," Rick tries, forcing his voice to remain soft and sweet, a natural placation for an aggressive Alpha. The bat leaves his hair and Rick can smell Abraham's blood where it rubbed against him. "You killed our leader."

At that, Negan laughs, the sound echoing around the horde of men gathered tight to their backs. Rick had known immediately when they started following. Omegas have that fined-tuned instinct, especially when it came to Alphas. He always knew what was behind him and if there were eyes on his neck. It was one of the things that had made him a good cop.

It hadn't mattered. By the time they'd realized they were well and truly trapped, it was too late. And now here they were, the blood of one of Rick's men soaking into the ground next to him, on their knees in front of an Alpha who smelled so thick with it Rick felt nauseous.

"So you're tellin' me that was your leader, hmm?" he said, turning back around. Rick nodded and saw the rest of the group with him follow suit. "Now, Rick, let's promise to try and not lie to each other, hmm?"

Rick flinches again when Negan's eyes land on him, sharp and red. The feeling of the Alpha's eyes on him makes Rick's skin crawl, anger and helplessness are burning in equal amounts in his throat, making it difficult to speak. He hasn't felt like this since the run-in with the Claimers, and the only people who knew how that ended were Michonne, Daryl, and Carl.

 _Carl_. Rick's eyes flash to him and Negan notices. His smile turns wide and predatory and he walks over to Carl, crouching down in front of him and cradling his bat across his thighs. Rick shakes again, desperate to not show weakness, to not try and fling himself between the Alpha and his son as some futile attempt to protect him.

Negan looks Carl over and then he grins and lets out a low whistle. " _Damn_ , boy, you got the look of serial killer in the makin' right there."

Carl bares his teeth and lets out a small growl. Rick winces, wanting to scold him and quiet him, _they can't anger the Alpha_ , but he forces himself to be still. Negan laughs again and looks over at Rick. "This your boy?" he asks, jerking his head to one side. Rick doesn't move and Negan shakes his head. "Nah, don't need ya to tell me. You both got that same crazy look in ya."

Negan turns his attention back to Carl. "You got a girl momma, boy? Or a daddy?"

Carl glares at him and Rick would be proud that his son is trying to stay so strong if he wasn't at the same time so afraid that Carl's defiance would earn him the same fate as Abraham. It's unwise to threaten or attack an Omega's child right in front of them – Omegas, submissive though they can be, have a killer mama bear instinct – but Rick figures if Negan intends to kill them all then it hardly matters how Rick should die, whether it be by his bat or in a rain of bullets trying to protect his son.

"I killed my mom," he says, and Negan blinks at him. "Before she could turn."

Negan makes a soft, sympathetic noise. "Well, I am sorry to hear that," he says and does sound sincere about that, before he stands up again. "So Rick here's been all alone since then?"

Carl's eye snaps over to Rick, wide, and then he presses his lips together and nods.

Negan smiles, slowly. "Y'all are a bunch of crappy-ass liars, anyone ever told you that?" he asked, clapping one gloved hand over his other wrist and standing lax, his bat swinging back and forth in front of him in some childish, phallic maneuver. Rick swallows so that he doesn't hiss.

He walks up and down the group, slowly. He pauses when he reaches Daryl, who had been put on his knees at the end of the line next to Glenn. He's pale and sweating, Rick can smell the blood on him and knows he's been injured. He'll rip the throat out of the Alpha that did it. Negan turns back around to look at Rick and Rick immediately ducks his gaze.

Negan lets out a low clicking sound as though thinking, before he heaves a breath and slings the bat over his shoulder. "Alright, guess we're doin' this the hard way. See, here's the thing – I ain't known a damn Alpha in my whole life that would let their Omega do somethin' as dumbass as this." He turns around. "Thing is, y'all stink so much it'll be hard to tell the natural way."

He smiles at each of them, his gaze lingering on Rick. Rick starts to shake harder, his breathing unsteady. Fear coils up tightly in his gut at the slow, anticipatory smile spreading out across Negan's face.

"I'm gonna need a volunteer. How 'bout you, sweetheart?" he says, pointing to Maggie.

"Don't you touch her," Glenn growls, baring his teeth.

Negan laughs. "Well, that rules you out," he says, and pulls the bat away. He points to Carl. "And obviously not you, unless your daddy fucked you up more than I thought."

Carl doesn't answer and Negan grins, throwing a wink his way. He runs his eyes down the rest of the group – Aaron, Michonne, Rosita, Sasha, Eugene, Daryl. He walks forward and comes to a stop in front of Rosita. She hasn't been able to look away from Abraham's body, and tears stream silently down her cheeks.

Negan lets out a fake hiss of sheepishness. "He…was yours, huh?" he asks, gesturing towards the body. Rosita clenches her jaw and meets his gaze and Negan smiles and holds out his hand. "C'mon, sweetheart. You're too hot to have been with _that_ guy."

"Fuck you," Rosita says, and bats Negan's hand away.

Negan straightens and shakes his head. "Alright. Doin' this the hard way." He holds a hand out to one of his men, who pulls a saw from his belt and hands it to Negan. It's meant for cutting wood, smaller pieces, and looks rusty and weak in his hand. Rick's eyes go wide when Negan approaches him and he can feel the group go tense.

Then, Negan kneels down and hands Rick the saw. "Take this," he commands, just enough Alpha Voice in it that Rick's hands snap out and wrap around the saw without hesitation. The teeth bite into one of his palms and he looks up at Negan with wide eyes and shakes his head.

"Please," he whispers, and Negan straightens with another smile.

"Boys," he says, and without warning two men come forward and grab Carl, shoving him out into the middle of the semi-circle and pressing him flat to his stomach. Rick lets out a cry of alarm, pushing himself forward, but a third man grabs him by the nape of his neck and tightens down so that Rick can't move.

"See, here's the thing," Negan says lightly. "Omegas are picky sons of bitches after they mate. _Their_ Alpha's Voice can mind-control them over everything else." His eyes land on Rick, unsettlingly red. Rick has seen Alphas go red before – mindless criminals or desperate men – but he's never seen the red so dark it's almost black.

Negan smiles, slowly. "Rick," he says, lifting his chin up and Rick's shoulders curl in and he lets out a quiet whimper. "I want you to cut off Carl's arm."

Rick's eyes go wide and he shakes his head vehemently, snarling at the Alpha still gripping him tight. He throws the saw away in front of him and tears at the Alpha's hands. Negan laughs and lets him, and the Alpha lets go and Rick shoves himself up to his feet.

" _No_ ," Negan says, Alpha Voice in his tone making Rick freeze. His eyes are wide and he looks up at Negan, breathing heavily, as the Alpha Voice slides across his neck and _squeezes_. It's more powerful than any physical touch. "On your knees."

Rick falls to them again, whining and starting to panic for real now. He can see Carl's face, pale with fear. He can't _hurt_ him. He _can't_. He shakes his head again but the Alpha Voice keeps him still and he lets out a wounded sound.

"Please," he tries, begging as much as he can, "please. No."

"Oh, I think yes," Negan replies, deadly quiet like the slip of a knife between the ribs. "Pick up the saw." Rick whines, crawling forward until his trembling hands wrap around the saw again. "Come kneel by your boy."

Rick obeys because he _can't_ disobey. He hasn't had someone use the Alpha Voice on him since Shane died – and even then Shane only did it when he absolutely had to, or when they were play-fighting because he knew Rick enjoyed it. The feeling of it now is _wrong_ , and not just because of what it's telling Rick to do. Negan smells _sick_ , from the blood and the bones.

Rick slides to a stop by Carl's head. One of the Alphas has Carl's left arm extended, pulling up his sleeve to expose the shoulder.

Negan kneels next to him, putting a hand in Rick's hair and leaning in close to speak into his ear. His voice causes unpleasant shivers to run down Rick's spine. "Now you're going to kneel here, and take that saw, and cut off your boy's arm." Rick whimpers again. "I was generous now, c'mon. Chose his left arm. He'll still be able to be the baby serial killer I know he's destined to be."

" _Please_ ," Rick says, turning his head to rub his cheek against Negan's jaw. If he can't talk his way out, he's willing to do other things. Anything if it means saving the rest of his pack. "Please, don't make me." And he sounds pathetic, he knows he does, but this is the only weapons Omegas have – sweet voices and soft touches and slick. He'll offer Negan all of that if he has to.

Negan smiles and tightens his grip on Rick's hair. "I'm not going to ask a third time."

"Dad," Carl whispers, "just do it." His face is tense, older than his years, and Rick can feel his heart breaking, his lungs collapsing as he tries to breathe in the chill air and the sick-Alpha scent pressed so close to him.

"Listen to your boy, Rick," Negan commands, and it is a command again and Rick grits his teeth, trying to fight with all that he can has he puts a hand on Carl's wrist and lowers the sawblade to his exposed arm. He presses down, his throat tight and tears welling up in his eyes, and pushes and Carl gives a sharp cry of pain.

"Rick, _stop_."

Release snaps across Rick's spine and he collapses, breathing hard and throwing the saw away again. He puts his hands in his hair and the Alphas move back and Rick starts to cry in earnest, shoving his body over Carl's and petting through his hair, his cheek rubbing against Carl's shoulders. He pulls Carl upright against his chest and feels Carl's weak purr in answer.

Negan lets out a low rumble that sounds like a challenge, a rival Alpha confronting the pack leader. " _There_ you are," he says, and walks in slow, easy steps towards Daryl. _Daryl_. Rick hasn't let himself think about Daryl the entire ordeal, he hadn't been able to afford to give away his mate, and he'd been so afraid that if he'd looked Daryl's way he'd collapse in on himself and lose his spine. But Daryl is there, and he saw Rick try to coax Negan into whatever he wanted, and he'd seen Rick almost cut his son's arm off, and he's seen Rick shaking and sick with fear and had to sit and watch his mate so obviously distressed and do nothing.

Negan comes to a stop in front of Daryl, head cocked to one side. He twists the bat around in his hands and looks over his shoulder at Rick.

Then, he swings it in a sharp arc over his head, aiming for Daryl's skull. Rick lets out a sharp cry of panic and pain and flinches when Negan's bat comes to a stop a few inches from Daryl's head. Daryl hasn't moved.

Negan grins. "Man, you don't scare easy, do ya?" he asks, his voice full of something like respect. "Gotta say, that was kinda shitty. You let him get pretty far."

Daryl blinks at him, hazy with blood loss, and bares his fangs. Daryl and Merle had always had more pronounced canines, some genetic inheritance from one of their parents, and Rick shivers when he sees them flashing in the light.

"Not sure I'd want a mate that would let me cut my own kid's arm off," Negan adds lightly, before he turns away with another grin. " _But_ that's just me. Now! Let's get down to the knitty-gritty of why you're here!"

Alphas come forward and yank Rick and Carl back into place in the line. Rick swallows hard enough that his throat clicks, his fingers twitching with the urge to take Carl and run to Daryl, soak in his Alpha's scent and his warmth and listen to his purr. He can't, of course he can't, and even if he could it wouldn't help, but he's been separated from Daryl for days now.

Omegas and Alphas, once mated, are linked at something deeper than blood and lust. An Omega runs the risk of becoming dependent on the hormonal release an Alpha brings, and with such proximity and knife-edge danger everywhere, Rick and Daryl had never given thought to worrying about that kind of thing, if it's even an option in this world anymore. There hasn't been a single moment since that first one, where Rick hasn't been able to smell Daryl, or touch him, or hear his voice. He's been feeling the withdrawal, coming in as certainly as the tide. He won't survive much more.

"You have something I want," Negan says. "And by all the rights of the old ways, I've pretty much taken it. It won't be all bad – you'll have to give up your weapons, of course. And supply us with food and whatever other shit we might want. In return, we don't gun y'all down in your beds. Sound fair?"

Rick shakes his head but there's no fight left in him. He can taste the resignation in the rest of the group, feel their surrender. He's exhausted, so stressed he can barely see, and he just wants it all to end.

He raises his head to look Negan in the eye and Negan smiles. "Oh, and of course we'll be takin' Daryl here with us."

Rick's eyes go wide and snap to Daryl as two Saviors hoist him up. He grunts, fighting them, his eyes flashing red as he bares his teeth at them, but then he goes quiet at a whistle from Negan. Negan is standing next to Carl, his bat pointed at his head. Daryl subsides, growling quietly, and they haul him away into a truck. Rick feels a sound get wrenched out of him like someone punched him. He howls, shoulders curling in and trembling.

"Hey now," Negan says, shrugging his shoulders. "Can't have a trump card like total mind-control make you lose perspective now, Rick."

Rick looks at him. "Please," he says. "You – you know what'll -."

"Don't worry," Negan says with a wide, snake-like grin. "I'll make sure you get your dose." And Rick doesn't know what means but his gut goes tight and cold with fear. Negan lifts his head and lets out a short, sharp whistle. "Round up, boys! We'll be takin' the RV. I'm sure you understand."

And with another big grin and a wink thrown in Rick's direction, the Saviors disperse, melting into the shadows, and Negan climbs into the RV with a few of his men and drives it away. As soon as he's gone Rick lets out another howl, falling to his hands and knees and beating his fist against the dirt, once.

"God _damn_ it," he snarls. Without Negan there the effect of the Alpha Voice is gone, sliding from his shoulders like water, and he kneels up and lifts his head to the sky, growling loudly. Beside him the group are still and quiet, likely in shock, he thinks.

"I want to bury him," Rosita says after a moment.

Rick shakes his head and shoves himself to his feet. "Rick," Glenn whispers, standing. "We gotta get Maggie to Hilltop."

Rick nods.

"I'll go," Michonne says, and Sasha nods with her.

"I'll catch up with you guys," Rosita murmurs. She's still looking at the stain on the ground.

"You need to get back to Alexandria," Eugene says. "We need to warn them. And you will need to start stockpilin' Dixon's belongings for scent preservation. He had a mighty sharp stink so I don't think it'll be difficult."

Rick glares at him, but a tremor runs down his spine as he thinks about what that means. Daryl is _gone_. He's gone, taken away, and God knows when or if Rick will ever see him again. Negan had said he'd 'get his dose' but what does that even mean? His hands are shaking with anxiety and he can't _think_. Already the anxious feeling of being separated from his mate is making him see in a blur and his thoughts can't settle in his head. It won't take long at all before he really starts to suffer.

Aaron comes forward and the Alpha's scent is soothing when he wraps his arms around Rick and keeps him upright when Rick's knees threaten to buckle. "We'll get him back to Alexandria," he tells Michonne, who nods, her lips pressed together and her eyes dark with worry. All of them look a mess, like they've seen the open gates of Hell, and Rick doesn't think any of them should separate but that's the Omega in him talking. Maggie needs to get to Hilltop. Rick needs to get to Alexandria.

Aaron, Eugene, and Carl accompany him back. Glenn stays with the women and helps Sasha and Rosita dig a grave. Rick hopes they make it in time to help Maggie. Rick hopes they make it there at all.

They make it back, exhausted to the bone with dawn's light just brimming over the horizon, and Carl helps Rick to his house while Eugene and Aaron field questions from the few gathered wide-eyed townspeople. Rick bares his teeth and forces himself to walk tall and strong towards his house, to make it look like the hand on Carl's shoulder isn't for support.

Once inside, Carl locks the door and Rick sinks to his knees on the first stair, unable to find the will to climb any farther. He puts his head in his hands, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks, and heaves a shuddering breath.

He turns to look when he feels Carl's hand on his shoulder. The one he would have cut off. Another tremor runs through him.

"I'll start the stockpile," Carl offers.

Rick shakes his head. "All his stuff is in my room," he says. "And there can't be…I can't have another Alpha messing it up."

Carl nods, understanding. He squeezes Rick's shoulder. "It's not your fault," he murmurs. "Any of it."

Rick shakes his head. "I started this," he says. "I started the war."

"Then finish it," Carl replies, his voice hard. Rick looks up at him again, eyes widening at the determined look on Carl's face. "We'll regroup, kill Negan, and get Daryl back. We can do it."

Rick offers a sad, shaky smile. "Yeah," he says, and puts a hand on Carl's before he stands and Carl lets him go. "I'm going to rest."

Carl nods again. The Alpha Voice, when used, wreaks havoc on an Omega's system and leaves them with symptoms vaguely like a hangover when used with force. Rick climbs the stairs and goes to his room, shedding his clothes once he's inside. He finds a shirt that Daryl had set aside for laundry and shrugs it on, smiling sadly when he finds it way too large in the shoulders.

He pulls on a pair of Daryl's underwear as well and puts Daryl's blanket on the sheets. He lays Daryl's sweat rag on the pillow even though it's clean, it still reminds him of Daryl and that one time where they'd had to be quiet, too sudden and needy to resist waiting for somewhere more private, and Daryl had used it to gag Rick as he fucked him deep and made him howl.

It's enough of Daryl's scent that it calms him, although it makes his chest hurt with longing about how much he wishes Daryl was here with him. He closes his eyes and presses his face against the blankets and tries not to think about where his mate might be, who has him, what they're doing to him. If he's going to survive the gunshot. If he'll survive the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys, I'm blown away by the response to this story! Thank you so much, I hope you continue to enjoy it as the story progresses.

Rick sleeps fitfully, whining softly under his breath whenever he's roused enough to smell Daryl's scent but recognize that the Alpha isn't there. His hands clutch at the blankets weakly, trying to find warm muscle and skin, but he discovers neither. By the time sunlight creeps in through his blinds and the bustle of Alexandria starts to filter in from the street outside, Rick knows he can't keep sleeping. He's exhausted, his head and chest ache, and he wants nothing more than to track down every one of Negan's group and slaughter them all in their sleep.

He hears footsteps outside of his door and low murmuring that sound like Carl and Eugene. Then, a knock. "Dad?"

"Don't open the door," he says, slurring the words and shoving himself to his feet with a wince. The clothes he's wearing now have traces of Daryl's scent on them but not as much as when he went to sleep. Daryl doesn't have a lot of unclean clothes in the room. Rick won't last very long once his scent clears and he can't afford to have fresh air and other Alphas coming in and ruining what little he does have.

"You need to eat," Carl says. Rick nods and he can smell food but his stomach turns at the scent of it. He doesn't want to eat. He doesn't want to move. But he has to, because he's still the leader of Alexandria and people will start to ask questions. They'll be afraid. And then, when the Saviors come, they'll be terrified.

Rick wonders, idly, how long Negan will wait until he comes for them to take the guns and the food he promised to take. If he'll let Rick and Alexandria stew, caught on the tripwire of fear and anticipation and wait until Rick is mindless with separation anxiety, or if he'll come immediately without giving them a chance to hide things and regroup.

Rick hopes his group were smart enough to start hiding things. They'll need everything they can sneak away. If Hilltop is to be believed, the Saviors pick them clean and don't leave much for them to survive on their own. Alexandria is large, he has people to feed and protect.

He's so tired. His head is throbbing.

He gets up and changes into his own clothing and opens the door, sliding out so that as little of the air inside escapes as he can get away with. Carl is there and steps back, his eye carefully looking Rick up and down. He has a plate in his hands of some of Carol's chicken casserole.

"Not hungry," Rick says, shaking his head when Carl offers him the plate.

"That's nice," Carl replies, and holds up a fork. "Eat anyway."

Rick manages a weak smile and takes the plate and the fork, forcing himself through a few bites before his stomach turns again and he lets out a low, uncomfortable sound, and hands it back with another shake of his head. Carl is apparently satisfied with that and takes it back from him, finishing the plate himself as the two of them walk downstairs and into the living room.

Michonne and Rosita are there. Maggie and Glenn are still at Hilltop, he assumes. Aaron is in the room as well and looks up, eyes shining with concern as he takes in Rick's state. Rick isn't sure what Aaron, Eric and Daryl used to talk about when he'd go to dinner at their place, but since it started Rick has noticed that Aaron has taken to being around Rick, trying to make sure he's okay. Probably keeping an eye on him at Daryl's request. Since Daryl has been missing, Aaron has been there as much as he can be. The presence of an Alpha as gentle and kind as Aaron is soothing but it's not what Rick needs. It's not what his mind and body want.

Michonne is holding Judith and Rick lets out a soft whimper, holding his hands out for her and Michonne places her in his arms. Rick takes in a deep breath, his nose pressed to the wispy blonde hair on top of her head, and he sighs and takes a heavy seat next to Michonne at the table.

They're all shaken, Rick knows that. And he knows that they're waiting for him to speak while trying to appear like they're not. Rick feels the heavy weight of leadership sitting on his shoulders like a stone and he closes his eyes and tries to stay calm but he can't. He's not calm, he won't be calm until he has Daryl back and everyone is safe again.

There's nothing to say. Abraham is dead. They'd finally met Negan, and Rick hadn't been strong enough to stop him because he hadn't thought that, despite everything, being around the Alpha would affect him so much. If Daryl hadn't been taken, if it hadn't been days since Rick has touched or kissed him, Rick could have been smarter. He could have been stronger, and better, and killed Negan when he had the chance.

There's a bandage on Carl's arm from the bite of the saw and Rick shivers when he sees it.

"I can't be in charge anymore," he says quietly, lifting his eyes after another moment of silence. Aaron presses his lips together and Michonne looks incredibly sad. "I can't…not against that. I can't do it."

"We'll think of something," Michonne says, reaching out to rest a hand on Rick's arm. "It's not over."

Rick shakes his head. How can he expect a woman to understand the bonds between Alphas and Omegas? It's not a question of sex, or gender – Alphas and Omegas are linked together, stronger than iron, and Rick feels like a piece of himself is missing. He wonders how she can think that when she saw what Rick did the last time he was separated from Daryl. The last time an Alpha threatened Carl.

Or maybe that's why she thinks that. Rick had reacted with violence, with a rabid strength most men didn't feel in their lifetime. Maybe she thinks Rick will grow hard and focused and ruthless like he did before.

But this feels different. Negan's Alpha Voice made him weak. He's _weak_ , and tired, and his hands tremble as they hold Judith to his chest. She makes a vague burbling sound, tugging at his hair, and Rick wants to cry.

"Here's what we know," Aaron says after a while. "Negan has control over Hilltop and the Kingdom. He has at least a hundred men loyal enough to him to follow him where he goes and obey his orders. Probably more. He has…he has Daryl."

Rick makes a weak sound.

"He's coming for our guns. For our food. We need to hide stashes of both."

"I hid my sword and a shotgun in the chimney," Michonne says.

"We need to burn the armory log book," Rick says, raising his head. "Olivia keeps records. We need to get rid of them. And the ones for the food."

Rosita nods and shoves herself to her feet. "I'll make sure it gets done," she murmurs, and leaves the room. Michonne stands and follows her to help load whatever they can hide into houses for safekeeping. Rick rubs the back of his neck and lets out another low whine.

"Here," Carl says, standing and walking around to Rick's back. "Hold still." He puts his hands on either side of Rick's neck and rubs his thumbs up the tendons on Rick's nape. It's a platonic touch, instinctive placation, and Rick closes his eyes as he lets his son gently touch his neck. It's not the same as when Daryl touches him but it will help with his headache, at least.

Then, Rick looks up as Eugene comes into the house. His eyes are wide and he's out of breath like he'd sprinted there. "Negan's here," he says.

Rick stands immediately, hollow in the chest, and hands Judith to Carl. "Hide her," he tells the boy, and Carl nods and takes her upstairs immediately. He walks out with Aaron and Eugene towards the gate.

As he approaches, he can see Alexandria gathered around him. Gabriel is among the crowd, his face tight with anxiety. Rick sees the silhouette of Negan against the gate and watches as he lifts his bat and wraps it against the gate.

Rick freezes, the sound triggering the scent of Abraham's blood and the sound of that bat hitting his flesh in Rick's mind. He feels his knees start to shake, threatening to buckle and drop him. Aaron puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes tightly.

"Little pig, little pig! Let me in!" Negan calls, tapping with the bat again. Spencer is on the wall, gun pointed at the group of Saviors undoubtedly amassed on the other side. Rick steps forward and Spencer looks at him and Rick can feel the hatred in his eyes, burning into his face.

Rick licks his lips, hesitant. Everyone should leave. As weak as he had been the night before, he can't imagine the devastation Negan will wreak if he uses the Alpha Voice on Rick again, here, in his home. It'll be just as the Alexandrians had said when Rick first took charge – since he came here. _Omegas can't lead. Omegas can't fight. Omegas can't survive._

He hears Negan take a deep breath and let out a laugh. "Rick," he says, singing his name, and Rick feels a shudder run down his spine. "Don't make me ask again."

There's no Alpha Voice there but the threat is as obvious as if Negan said the words. He looks up and nods at Spencer who glares at him, before making a gesture to open the gates. Aaron walks forward and pulls the rolling gate to one side, revealing Negan and a few of the same men Rick recognizes from the woods. Behind them are three large, idling trucks, and they start to drive in as soon as the way is clear.

Negan's red eyes find him immediately and the Alpha grins, lowering his bat as Rick walks up to him. His fangs are bared and Rick slams to a halt as he realizes…

He can _smell_ Daryl on Negan.

He can smell him as easily as if Daryl was standing right in front of him instead. His brain stutters, trying to rationalize the scent with the sight. It's not Daryl, it's not _his Alpha_ , but Rick can _smell_ Daryl on Negan's clothes.

He whimpers and Negan grins because he absolutely knows what he's doing to Rick. "Howdy, partner," he greets jovially, cocking his hip out and resting his bat against the ground. "How ya feelin'?"

Rick's eyes dart to the trucks as they stop and more Saviors jump out. He swallows hard and tries to breathe through his mouth. "Didn't think you'd be visitin' so soon."

"What, and miss out on a golden opportunity to finally see this place?" Negan says with a grin. "I've been waitin' _years_ to get a peek behind the curtain, Mister Oz. _Gotta_ see the kind of place that lets an Omega run it."

Rick swallows. "I told you," he says quietly, "you killed the leader."

Negan's eyes flash with mirth and he smirks. "Sure," he says, and steps forward so he's right in Rick's space. Rick whimpers and fights the urge to flinch and Negan lifts his bat and taps it against Rick's arm. There's still blood on it. _Abraham's blood_. "Guess it doesn't matter now, does it? The pack Omega is the only one worth controlling."

Negan's eyes move away from Rick towards Aaron and his smile widens. "But there's more than one'a ya, ain't there?" he asks.

Rick's eyes widen and he reaches out and grabs Negan's arm, pulling the Alpha's attention back to him. "No one else has to get hurt," he says, and he knows he's begging but he can't help it. Omegas don't _fight_ Alphas like this. They plead and they beg and they present themselves sweetly and hope for the best and Rick will be _damned_ if he lets Eric suffer like this. If Negan takes Aaron, Eric will break and unravel just as Rick is destined to, and what if Negan comes back smelling of Aaron like he does Daryl right now?

Negan smirks, obviously pleased that he has Rick so shaken, and turns to his men. "Take the food, the guns, the mattresses, and anything else that looks good. You guys know what I like." A few of the gathered Alphas laugh and branch off, melting through the crowds of terrified, bewildered Alexandrians. Rick can hear them now;

_What's going on?_

_Why is Rick letting them do this?_

_Who are you?_

"Rick," Negan says, and Rick's attention snaps back to him. "Walk with me."

Rick obeys, his head ducked low as Negan starts to walk past the wall, letting his bat rub along the metal with an unholy shrieking sound. They walk down the street until they're a little more removed from the rest of the crowd and Negan lets out a low whistle.

" _Damn_ , this place is paradise," he says. He spreads his arms out to either side of him and turns to regard Rick. He smiles widely and reaches out with his free hand and Rick flinches from him, biting his lower lip as Negan pulls him close by the back of his neck. His big hand spreads out, uncomfortably hot on Rick's nape and it sends a shudder of revulsion down his spine. "C'mon, Rick, no need for that. I went to all this trouble to make sure I smelled right for ya."

Rick whines, closing his eyes. He thinks about lunging for Negan's throat but holds himself back. Negan's hand on his neck isn't letting him move – he doesn't touch Rick like Daryl does. Daryl, whenever he does play fight with Rick or touch him like this, is gentle and attentive and makes sure he doesn't push too far. Negan, Rick senses, will do none of that.

Negan lets out a low laugh and puts his mouth by Rick's ear; "You should thank me," he says, enough Alpha Voice in there that it's an order and Rick gasps like he's been punched.

"Th-thank you," he says, and he takes a deep breath and instantly regrets it because Negan _stinks_ of Daryl and he doesn't know why or how but it's fucking with his head so much that he can barely see. He clutches at Negan's jacket and tries to push himself away but he can't.

Negan chuckles. "This is almost like our second date, Rick," he says warmly, finally letting Rick's neck go and Rick trembles, fighting the urge to collapse to his knees. He lets go of Negan and takes a step back, breathing hard through his mouth. "You know what happens on the third?"

"Please," Rick whispers. "Please. Just don't hurt anyone."

"Now why would I do that?"

"I'll do whatever you want me to," Rick says, weak and beaten. He hates this, he hates that he's saying this, he hates himself with every fiber of his being but he _has_ to placate this Alpha, has to act sweet and coy and obedient until he can find his footing and the rest of his pack can figure out how to beat him. "You know that, right?"

Negan nods, his eyes flashing red and his fangs bared when he smiles. "Well, I'll tell ya, Rick, it sure is nice to hear that. I'm lookin' forward to workin' with you." His eyes rake up and down Rick's body and Rick's shoulders curl in, hiding his neck. "I'm lookin' forward to a lot of things."

Rick shivers, repulsed and terrified. One of Negan's men approaches them and Negan's eyes snap away from him to regard the Alpha.

"Found this," the Alpha says, holding up a college rule notebook that Rick recognizes as Olivia's logs for the weapons. It's half-burned and has marks on the cover but he can tell that there's still salvageable information in there and his stomach goes cold. "Thing is, there's a lot more in here than what we found."

"That right?" Negan asks, his red eyes turning back to Rick. Rick bites his lower lip and ducks his head. "You already hidin' stuff from me, Rick?"

"No, I swear," Rick says.

Negan's eyes narrow and he looks back at the other Alpha. "Tell the boys to get more aggressive in their search," he says. "I want it all found."

The Alpha nods and walks away and Negan snarls lowly. It's a powerful sound and Rick flinches, whimpering softly in the presence of the aggressive Alpha. Negan points the bat at Rick's chest and presses against his neck with it and Rick winces, feeling the barbs bite into his throat.

"Every gun I find hidden around this place is another strike, Rick," he threatens. "You wanna know what happens on strike three?"

"Please," Rick says weakly, "I don't know – everything is in the armory. I _swear_."

"Thought we promised not to lie to each other," Negan says. "Daryl's not here to save your boy's arm again, or anyone else for that matter. I could have you kill 'em all, one by one, and it won't be any skin off my back, I'll tell ya that."

Rick is starting to shake, to sweat. His scent is sour with fear. "I'll find them," he promises, his eyes wide when Negan takes the bat away and smiles.

Negan shakes his head. "No," he says, and then he looks around and points his bat at Eugene as he passes by. "You there!"

Eugene stops, pale with fear, and approaches. "I remember you," Negan says gently, his smile wide and showing his fangs. "Now I got reason to suspect you all might be squirrelin' away some weapons. Food too, maybe. I'd like you to find 'em all for me."

Eugene blinks and his eyes flash to Rick, before he nods rapidly and flees. Rick takes another step back, wanting to follow, but Negan lashes out and grabs him and shoves him against the wall. He pushes himself against Rick's chest and Rick gets a deep lungful of Daryl's scent mixed with the blood-scent he has started to associate with Negan already. It's wild, a dark and dizzying combination of what he needs and what he fears, and Rick thinks for one brief, destructive second, that he might not be able to be around Daryl again without smelling it. Negan might rip them apart and render Rick unable to be around his mate and it would be so incredibly cruel, but Rick doesn't think it beyond Negan to try.

"Tread carefully," Negan warns him, putting his free hand in Rick's hair and pulling. Rick gasps and Negan leans in and kisses him and Rick goes tense, trembling in Negan's hold. The Alpha is taller than him, well-fed and strong and blankets Rick's smaller body against the wall and Rick feels helpless. Daryl doesn't make him feel this way. Daryl has never made Rick feel so weak, so inconsequential.

Negan bites on his lower lip hard enough to shed blood and Rick growls weakly, shoving at his shoulders when Negan sucks on it, before he finally takes a step back and allows Rick his air. Rick's brain is in open revolt, not knowing the taste of his Alpha but knowing the scent lingering on his skin. He puts a hand to his mouth and wipes at the blood there and fights the urge to throw up.

"Until I get what I want, you're not leaving my side," Negan says and Rick nods before he can think about it. Negan is using his Alpha Voice again, forcing Rick's obedience and submission and it hurts, it makes Rick feel dizzy and sick, but he can't disobey.

 

 

They find as many guns as they can, too hastily hidden to remain so, until Negan is satisfied. Rick doesn't know if they found the ones Michonne hid and he doesn't dare ask as he walks with Negan back to the gate. They take all of the food, the weapons, the mattresses. They take the sheets and pillows and blankets. They take random things that apparently struck their fancy.

They load up the trucks and drive out of Alexandria and Negan turns to regard Rick one more time. His lips are stained with Rick's blood and Rick's mouth is tender and sore.

"It was a pleasure, Rick," Negan says. "I'll be back in a week for more supplies."

Rick's eyes widen but he doesn't dare argue with him. The Alexandrians have gathered around, a mix of shock and disbelief and anger blanket the air like a thick cloud.

Negan smiles. "There's one more thing I want," he says.

Rick nods, looking at the ground. He knows what Negan wants. He closes his eyes and heaves a breath, and then steps forward and goes to his knees in front of Negan, to an echo of shocks murmurs and outraged snarls from the onlookers. Negan puts a hand in his hair and tilts his head up and Rick blinks up at him. Negan's – _Daryl's ­­­_ – scent is thick on his tongue and Negan pulls him to his feet, and then kisses Rick one more time.

"I'll see you later," Negan growls, low with promise, and Rick's chest goes tight and cold with fear. Then, Negan lets him go and gives a lazy salute to the rest of the crowd, grinning as he does so, and leaves Alexandria. Aaron closes the gate behind him.

Carl immediately runs forward as Rick falls to his knees again, wiping at his mouth and growling lowly under his breath. Just as in the woods, as soon as Negan is gone Rick feels his influence fade from him like shedding his clothes. He flinches when Carl puts a hand on his shoulder and then Michonne and Aaron are there too, helping him to his feet.

"The fuck was that?" It's Spencer, pushing himself to the front of the crowd. "What the _fuck_ was that, you son of a bitch?"

He wants to take a swing at Rick and Rick might just let him. It's certainly as much as he deserves, but then Carl and Aaron both snarl at Spencer – and Rosita steps forward to block his path, her jaw clenched and her eyes burning.

"You weren't there," she says, and shoves a hand against Spencer's chest. "Back off."

Spencer snarls and raises his eyes to Rick again. "I told you this would happen if we let an Omega take charge," he hisses.

Rick closes his eyes and turns his face away. He's exhausted, Negan's Alpha Voice leaving him feeling hollow and withdrawn again. He's pale and shaking and almost too weak to stand.

"He needs food," Carl says quietly, anxiously. Rick shakes his head. The thought of eating, of doing anything else except immediately going to scrub himself clean of Negan's touch on him, makes his stomach turn.

"I'm fine," Rick says. "I need…I need to call a meeting. I need to explain."

"That can wait."

"No, it can't," Rick says, shaking his head.

Michonne presses her lips together, before she sighs. "They didn't get our guns," she says. "I hid them well."

Rick smiles at her. "Good."

"A meeting, then," Aaron says with a nod. "I'll spread the word. We'll gather in the church hall in an hour."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Negan being a fucking creep and Spencer being an asshole.
> 
> I know I warned before but I want to warn again - the Negan/Rick dynamic will be explicit and completely dub/non-con on Rick's part. It's coming in the next few chapters so I want everyone to be aware. Negan is NOT a good partner for Rick in this fic (although I'm tempted to write a happier Regan now, lol).

Rick paces the raised platform at the front of the church as Alexandria pours in. It's more people than he ever remembers seeing at one time – even when the wolves had broken the wall and the dead had poured in and the town had flocked to him in the height of their strength to help him beat back the flood of the dead, he doesn't remember seeing so many scared, pale faces.

They're all looking at him with mixes of fear, anger, and disgust. He can handle them, usually, but he's still shaky and weak from Negan's presence, from lack of food and sleep. He can taste Negan on his lips and can still _smell_ Daryl, the way it clung to Negan's skin. What had Negan done to make himself smell like that? What is he doing to Daryl?

The thoughts make him tremble and he almost collapses on Father Gabriel's chair. Carl is standing next to him, watching him as any Alpha would do to their pack Omega. Aaron is by his side, tense and anxious. When Rick looks unsteady he can sense how much the Alphas want to rush in and hold him up but they must understand that he has to stand on his own, present himself as someone still strong enough to have a clear head.

But he's not strong and he doesn't have a clear head. He's heard stories, seen it on the news – Hell, even his time as a cop had shown him how terribly Omegas suffer when forcibly separated from their Alphas. Even abusive, horrible men could bond themselves to an Omega and when taken away, the Omega turns into little more than a beaten animal. They lose their fucking minds. Sometimes they go feral, frenzied, and Rick is sure he was well on his way to that with the Claimers. Daryl had been there and saved his fucking life, thank God – Rick had felt himself slip into that primal, feral state when he'd ripped the throat out of their leader, but then Daryl was there and had soothed him and given him much-needed touch placation, and even play fought with him until Rick was calm again to move on. Michonne had taken Carl away to find food at that part, leaving the mated pair alone to rut and fight and for Daryl to finally mount Rick in the backseat of a burned-out car and imprint his scent back into his mate to keep them both calm.

But Daryl is _gone_. He's been taken and the Alpha who took him came back reeking of him and Rick's chest feels hollow and his mouth stings and he can't fucking _think_.

He raises his head when the doors close and all of Alexandria is gathered. They're packed in tightly, in the seats and lining the walls. Rick sighs and puts his hands on his hips and then shakes his head, looking out of the window. It looks so peaceful outside.

"I'm…" He clears his throat and looks back at the gathered crowd. "I'm gonna say this as clearly as I can…" He swallows, looking down at his shoes, and then back up. "I'm not in charge anymore. Negan is."

In the front row, Spencer lets out a low, scathing noise. "Yeah, that much was obvious."

Beside him, Rosita shoots him a glare. "Shut the fuck up," she hisses. "You weren't there."

Spencer scoffs again and stands, gesturing out between the gathered crowd and Rick. "You started this," he says, accusingly. His eyes are flickering red and Rick raises his chin, refusing to back down and be cowed. Spencer is a _child_ to him, all brash and loud. He doesn't _know_. He has an Alpha Voice but it's weak, Rick has heard it. "You started this war and now you're in over your head because all a man has to do is _talk_ at you right and you're on your fuckin' _knees_ for him."

"I knelt, too," Aaron says, his upper lip curling back in a low snarl. "Abraham did, too. And he got his brains bashed in. You wanna be next?"

"You threatenin' me?" Spencer demands.

"Aaron, please," Rick says, holding out a hand to placate the Alpha. "Spencer's right," he adds. "I'm not…I'm not in charge. I can't be in charge anymore." He rubs his hands over his face and sighs. "Look, you all know…you saw them. The people he brought with him, he has more. Dozens, maybe hundreds more. I don't know. That outpost we took out had almost fifty men stationed there and it didn't even make him break a sweat. We're outnumbered, outgunned, and…" He stops, looking at Spencer. "And Negan is an Alpha. A powerful one. I can't fight that. Not without Daryl."

" _Daryl_ ," Spencer growls. "And where the fuck is he, hmm?"

"Negan took him," Carl replies coldly. "He took him to fuck with Dad."

"He smelled like Daryl," Rick says, almost too quietly to hear. On Aaron's side, a few rows back, he hears Eric give a startled gasp. Eric is the only other Omega in Alexandria. He _knows_ what it would feel like to have another Alpha steal his mate away and come back reeking of his scent.

"We have to get him back," Eric says, standing up. His eyes are wide.

Rick sees Michonne nodding, and Aaron as well. They both love Daryl. Rick shakes his head. "I don't see how," he says weakly.

He sits down on the steps leading up to the podium and rubs his hands over his face. "Look, I'm sorry this happened," he says. "A lot of shit went down, and I know…I know it's on me. I accept that. I'll do what I can to make sure Negan doesn't kill us all but…"

"But _what_?" Spencer demands. "What the _fuck_ can you do that an Alpha can't?"

Rick raises his eyes and looks at the Alpha. He finds it baffling that Spencer can't know what he means. He shakes his head and sighs again, standing.

"I called you all here to tell you like it is," he says. "Negan's going to come back, he's going to make us provide for him, like Hilltop and the Kingdom do. So, we have to provide. Double the scouts out, bring back as much as we can." He bites his lip and looks at Olivia. "Stop logging things. He tore the place apart looking for the shit we had."

He doesn't say that they managed to keep some. Some people in here shouldn't know that.

Olivia nods, pressing her lips together. Rick knows some of Negan's men threatened her. He hates that, he hates that he could do nothing to stop it. His skin feels dirty, he wants to scrub Negan's scent from him, but Negan's scent has traces of Daryl in it and Rick needs to horde it like a squirrel in winter.

"We can learn to grow things," someone suggests from the crowd. It's Tobin. Rick remembers he and Carol had a relationship before Carol left. "It'll help flesh out supplies."

Rick nods, silently grateful. "That's good," he says. "I'm sure Hilltop will teach us. Maggie and Glenn are there. We need to tell them what happened."

"I'll go," Rosita says, standing. She glares at Spencer again and Rick nods at her and she nods back, her jaw clenched and determined.

"I'll go, too," Enid says and stands as well. Rick bites his lip, and wants to tell her that she shouldn't, but he's not in charge anymore. He has no Voice to make her do anything.

"I guess that's it," Rick says with a sigh, shaking his head again. "I'm sorry this happened. I'm going to do everything I can to preserve this place. You people trusted me and I let you down and I…I can't say anything except that I'm sorry. That I was wrong."

"I knew you were going to be the end of us," Spencer growls, low with threat. "You were out there too long, all your pack have. You're a _poison_."

"That's enough out of you," Gabriel says.

Rick can see some of the Alphas, though – they agree with Spencer. They're nodding along, red flickering in their eyes. There's going to be a mutiny. Maybe they'll challenge Negan, and then they'll all die.

"Negan will gut you like a fish," he tells Spencer, quietly.

Spencer smirks. "Let him try."

 

 

 

_"We're on easy street…and it feels so sweet…"_

Daryl growls, flinching when the song begins again. He's shivering, naked and cold in his dirty cell. It stinks of piss from where he'd had to relieve himself in the corner, but over that the stench of rutting, riotous Alpha is so strong he gags on it. He hasn't slept in what feels like days. He's weak from hunger and dehydration and lack of sleep, and he _aches_. He aches on a level he didn't know a man could ache – worse than when his daddy used to beat him, or long nights with nothing but the roots of trees and hard rocks to keep him company. Worse that when he was shot by Andrea, or fell on his own arrow.

He aches for Rick.

He keeps replaying that night, over and over in his head. If he hadn't gone – if he had just fucking _listened_ to Glenn and Michonne and Rosita, if he hadn't been so blinded by the need to avenge Denise, he wouldn't have been trapped, and shot, and captured. He wouldn't have been taken from Rick, not once, but _twice_. The most recent memory he has of Rick's scent is his sweet mate sour with fear, trembling and sobbing over the son he'd almost mutilated, and Daryl had – Daryl had _let_ him almost…

Of course, he couldn't have let Rick do that. If that hadn't have worked, Negan would have kept going. Until Carl was dead. Until they all were. But now Negan has his mate, he has his mate and his home and his pack and Daryl is stuck here listening to that _stupid fucking song…_

He imagines killing Dwight. Slowly. He imagines putting his hands on the other Alpha's throat and watching the light go out of his eyes. He imagines getting his crossbow and his bike and ordering Negan to his knees and burning his fucking face off with his tire. He imagines shooting Negan – in the legs, the knees, the balls, the shoulders. Pinning him like some fucking Antichrist in a mockery of the Crucifixion on the outside of his own walls and watching him bleed out.

He imagines Rick by his side when he does it, letting his mate know that he's here. Letting his mate watch the bastard die. He'd let Rick take the final shot, that beautiful pistol put right between Negan's eyes. He'd let all of the Saviors watch before he ripped out their throats, one by one.

He imagines mounting Rick over their corpses. His mate is wild, and strong, and willingly bows to only him. The reminder makes Daryl tremble in rage, in desire, that _ache_ piercing him as fiercely as a bullet to the heart.

The door opens and reveals Negan's silhouette. Daryl flinches from the bright light and snarls, lifting his eyes and squinting against it. Negan laughs and walks inside. There's another Alpha at the door. Daryl moves to try and curl away from him. There's no fresh blood on Negan's bat at that seems like a blessing.

Negan whistles lowly. "Man, you look like _shit_ ," he says. The song goes quiet and Daryl lets out a shuddering, relieved exhale. Negan sets the bat down by the door and steps inside, kneeling next to Daryl. He cocks his head to one side and looks Daryl over and Daryl hisses at him, weakly. "C'mon, man, don't gotta be like that."

"Fuck you," Daryl snarls. Negan won't kill him, he's sure of that – he's too valuable alive.

Negan grins. "You'll watch your mouth if you wanna keep bein' in one piece," he says. "I just need your scent. Don't need all of you for that."

Daryl growls at him again, but doesn't speak.

"Rick seemed to like it," Negan says, quietly. Daryl goes tense. "He let me kiss him. Twice. He smelled so sweet. Wanna taste?"

Daryl spits on the floor between Negan's knees. "You fuckin' touch him and I'll -."

"Oh, you'll what?" Negan asks, his eyes wide in fake fear. He grins again. "What the fuck you gonna do about it, hmm?"

Daryl growls again, weakly.

Negan laughs again, loudly enough that Daryl flinches, and claps his hands together. "You know, I'm _really_ gonna enjoy breakin' you," he says. "All you need to do is say what I wanna hear, and you can go back to your pretty boy and your home and your pack. You know what I wanna hear, Daryl?"

Daryl nods, baring his teeth.

"You gonna say it?"

"Burn in Hell," Daryl snaps.

Negan laughs. "I'm going back to Alexandria in a week," he says lowly, leaning in. Daryl's eyes flash to the man at the door. It would be so easy. He could rip Negan's throat out, lose his life, and call it a day. But that would mean Rick… _Rick_ would be alone. He can't be alone. Daryl won't allow that. If he were a better man he would hope Rick would just take another mate and bond with him, but Daryl's soul _revolts_ against that idea. Rick is _his_ , Rick has been his since the day they met, and Daryl will be _damned_ if he lets another Alpha put their hands on his mate while Daryl's still breathing.

Negan hums, his eyes going half-lidded in pleasure. "You remember that night?" he asked, his voice whisper-quiet. "I had him on his knees, and he turned his head and begged me so nicely to spare his boy. What do you think he'll do when you're not around to stop him doing what I tell him? What do you think I can _make_ him do?"

Daryl closes his eyes and turns his face away.

"I could make him kill Carl," Negan says, as though lost in thought. Daryl is sure he's watching Daryl's every move though, every reaction. "Could make him put his hands on Carl's throat and squeeze and _squeeze_ -."

Daryl growls.

"But I like that kid," Negan says. "Kids like that are hard to come by, nowadays. Either they're too stupid to live or too soft like the others in that town. But _Carl_ …" He whistles lowly again and smiles, slowly. "That kid's got the makin's of a good Alpha there, despite his parents."

"You shut your mouth," Daryl snarls.

"Or maybe I'll just have him go through Alexandria, one by one," Negan muses, ignoring Daryl's outburst. "My own personal attack dog. Has a certain ring to it, don't it?"

Daryl remains silent, shaking with anger. _Do it_ , he tells himself. _Just fucking do it._

"You know what I'll _definitely_ do, though?" Negan says, his eyes red and bright with joy and sadism. "Next time I visit our pretty Omega, I'm gonna take you with me. I'll let you watch him kneel for me. I'll let you watch him kiss me. I'll make you watch me fuck him."

Daryl lunges, snarling, and Negan stands up and grabs the bat, swinging it at Daryl's head. Daryl manages to dodge and brings his arm up so it hits his shoulder instead and he snarls in pain as the barbs bite into his skin, the concussive force of the swing sending him against the wall with a thud.

Negan tuts, grinning in victory. Daryl snarls at him, clutching his bleeding arm. "You touch him and I'll tell him to rip your fucking throat out," he hisses, voice low and Alpha. He'll be _damned_ if he lets Negan touch Rick. "If I don't do it myself, first."

"Gonna be hard to talk if you got no teeth or tongue," Negan replies coolly. "Like I said, I don't need you in one piece."

Daryl snarls, baring his teeth. He can feel his eyes itching, flickering red. "I'm gonna kill ya," he says, and it's a promise. "I'm gonna fuckin' _kill_ ya and every last one of your _dogs_."

Negan smiles. "There's a way to avoid this," he says. "Tell me what I wanna hear. Who are you?"

" _Daryl_ ," Daryl hisses. "I'm fuckin' _Daryl_ and I'm going to _kill_ you."

Negan sighs, as though in pain. "Well, that's a shame," he says. "Rick misses you desperately, I know he's going to be over the moon to see you." He grins and kneels down again. "Hope you trained him right. I know some Omegas get slick just _lookin_ ' at their Alpha. Now, I'm not above fuckin' him dry, but he smells so good, I'd hate to miss that."

"I'm going to kill you," Daryl growls again. Negan laughs and leaves the room and the song starts back up again, blaring loudly. Daryl shoves himself to his feet and throws himself against the door as it closes, clawing at it and beating his fists against it. "You touch him, you fuckin' die! I swear to God, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna fuckin' watch you _bleed._ You'll be _beggin'_ for me to do it!"

He can't hear it over the sound of the song, but he's sure Negan is laughing. Laughing at _him_. Daryl howls, wretched with anger, he feels like he can barely see. His hands are shaking and he beats against the door again, snarling as loudly as he can.

He prowls away from the door, pacing the small cell as much as he can. He's burning with anger, fury coursing through his veins so powerful it feels like he's going feral. The thought of that _monster_ touching his mate – of kissing him and mounting him – is bad enough, but to make Daryl _watch_ -.

 _No_. No, he won't let that happen. If he has to kill every last son of a bitch who stands in his way, he _will not let that happen_. And if it means Alexandria burns, if it means the whole fucking _world_ burns and he and Rick go down in a rain of bullets, he'll do it. Negan will regret the day he ever set his sights on Alexandria, on _Rick_.

Vengeance and anger make him feel strong, despite the thirst and the hunger and the fear. He hopes Rick can feel it. He hopes their bond is still strong enough that Rick can feel his anger, that it's making him strong as well. Of course, he knows that's not how it works. They've been separated too long, the stress too high, for him to feel Rick as he once did.

He's alone. Rick is alone. But he won't stay that way.

_"We're on easy street…and it feels so sweet…"_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyyyy. So.  
> This is the chapter where the stuff happens. I really want to warn everyone that Negan is an incredibly fucked-up individual, is not a good partner for Rick, and this whole chapter is super heavy with very explicit dub/non-con. Rick plays along with it because he has to. Please read with caution and feel free to ask me for any details before reading. Believe me, I'll be tagging the shit outta this thing.

Rick is too weak to go on runs to gather supplies but he still tries. Each time he steps outside of the walls Aaron or Michonne are on him like a shadow, watching his every step. By the second day of not eating and little sleep Rick is too uncoordinated and weak to be of any use at all. They bust a few stores nearby that still has food and water, and they find weapons in a small cache in a collection of suburban homes that looks like someone tried to create a stockpile of their own before disappearing or being turned.

There's enough that Rick hopes Negan will be satisfied. Of course, he's enough of a realist to know that Negan will never be satisfied – he'll always demand more. And, chances are he gets plenty of supplies from the Kingdom and Hilltop. They're not hurting for supplies, the Saviors. He's sure of that. No, Negan wants other things from him, from Alexandria. He's just high off of the conquest and wants to see them all suffer.

It's the worst kind of Alpha instinct. Every Alpha has the desire to conquer, sometimes it's buried deep and ignorable and sometimes it's as plain as their red eyes or pronounced fangs. Negan wears it like a second skin, the desire to command and control. It makes Rick sick to his stomach to think about what he might demand if Alexandria comes up short one too many times.

 

 

When Rick wakes, it's to silence. It's almost peaceful before he realizes that the silence is absolute. One of the things that had separated Alexandria from Woodbury had been the sound of birdsong, of children happy and in play. There is none of that, as his ears become accustomed to the oppressive lack of sound.

He pushes himself to his feet. The scent of Daryl is heavy enough in the room that it calms him somewhat, but it's fading fast like it's being leeched from the air. Soon it'll be gone completely, replaced with just Rick as though the Alpha had never been there. He feels a moment of panic when this thought registers and, sick to his stomach and shaky with anxiety, he grabs all of the things he can find that have even a trace of Daryl still on them and shove them into a corner of his room so that they can preserve the scent as much as possible.

He hears footsteps approach his room and frowns. It isn't a gait he recognizes. He goes to the door and the steps stop and Rick takes a deep breath. He fights back a whimper when he smells _Daryl_.

But that's impossible, Daryl is gone, taken away, and there's only one Alpha that's been smelling like him recently and Rick starts to tremble. Has it been a week already? It can't possibly have been. He can't remember the last time he ate or slept worth a damn, but surely it hasn't been a full week.

_You know what happens on the third date, Rick?_

"No," he whispers, and shakes his head. He presses his hands against the door and takes another deep breath and it still _stinks_ of Daryl. Negan is here, on the other side of Rick's door. He can probably smell Rick's fear.

Then, a voice comes out, low and soft; "Rick, open the door."

Rick gasps like he's been punched. It's Daryl's voice. It's _Daryl_. Rick grabs for the door handle but makes himself stop before he can open the door. It doesn't make sense that Daryl is here. Daryl can't be here – did he escape? No, if he escaped someone would have told him. He'd have heard Alexandria clamoring for him, shouting at their leader that his mate is safe and whole. There would be birds singing and children laughing. But there's none of that – just the deadly silence of a forest when a predator is in its midst.

He licks his lips and whines. "Daryl," he whispers, pressing his forehead against the door. He's slick with cold sweat, from a nightmare or withdrawal he can't say – he doesn't remember his dreams anymore. Has it already been a week? Why is Daryl _here_?

"Rick," Daryl says again, and Rick hears the floorboards creak as he shifts his weight. "Rick, please. Open the door."

Rick hears a baby. Judith. He's got Judith. She's burbling and making those soft baby noises that children do as they start learning to talk. Rick squeezes his eyes tightly shut and digs his nails into his palms, willing himself to wake up. The only explanation, the only one his brain can accept, is that he's dreaming.

He puts his foot just shy of the corner of the door and turns the handle.

It _is_ Daryl. He looks exhausted, his hair limp and greasy, dark circles under his eyes telling Rick that he's slept just about as much as Rick has. His Alpha scent is sour, like he's gone a long time without bathing and he probably has from the state of his hair and skin, but it's _him_. Rick pulls open the door all the way and freezes.

Negan is standing right next to him, a wide grin on his face. Judith is in his arms.

"Oh God, _no_ ," Rick gasps, his chest caving in like he's been shot in the ribs. Judith turns to look at him and smiles, leaning out of Negan's hold to reach for him, and Rick wants to reach for her but she'll smell of another Alpha – God, he can't turn his own daughter against Rick. Negan _can't_.

"There's momma," Negan says, grinning wide and pressing a tender kiss to Judith's hair. Daryl is visibly shaking next to him, Rick can feel his anger and outrage at another Alpha touching his child – because Judith _is_ his child, as much as she is Rick's, as much as she was Shane's or Lori's. "C'mon, Rick, come downstairs with us! I had Carl make spaghetti."

Rick whimpers when Negan turns away and walks down the hallway. He knows Rick will follow because Negan has his _child_ and all Omegas are biologically programmed to need to protect their children. Rick takes a single, shaky step over the threshold and Daryl reaches for him.

Rick flinches, his back colliding with the door as it closes behind him. "He'll kill you," Rick says, shaking his head frantically even when every part of him is howling to touch his mate. Daryl's fingers hesitate and curl in, he looks defeated and angry, his shoulders are tense. He's wearing a cream-colored tracksuit with a large orange 'A' painted on the front.

"You have to get outta here," Daryl whispers, his voice is raspy and broken like he's spent the entire week he's been gone growling and snarling, more animal than man. It makes Rick's spine shiver unpleasantly. As much as Negan smells like Daryl, Daryl reeks of _Negan_ , and the combination of scents is driving him crazy. "He's here to…he's gonna…" His fingers curl again and he growls.

"I know what he wants," Rick says. Negan has told him as much already. Hell, Rick offered it to him on a silver platter the last time he was here, and the night they first met the bogeyman.

"And you're just gonna let 'im?" Daryl hisses, bristling with anger and betrayal. His eyes feel like they're digging into Rick, clawed and fanged. He bares his teeth and Rick ducks his head to one side, baring his neck out of instinct to his Alpha. "He's gonna make me watch. That's what he said."

Rick closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands. His knees can't hold him up and he slides to the floor, his back still to the door. "No," he groans, digging his nails into his scalp. He can feel his throat getting thick, eyes welling up. He feels so fucking _weak_. "No. You can't watch. Promise me."

"Rick, please." Daryl crouches down in front of him and Rick can see how desperately he wants to touch, to put his hands in Rick's hair and on his neck and reclaim him, wipe away the sweat and the stink of Rick's sickness from his skin. "Please. I gotta – please let me."

Rick nods and lets his knees part so that Daryl can crawl between his thighs. Daryl pulls his hands away from his face and holds them tightly and leans in close, their foreheads touching, noses brushing together, and then he's kissing Rick. Rick moans weakly against his mouth, shuddering, his body singing with joy at having his Alpha touch him but his mind is a mess. The last time it had gotten this bad, after the Claimers, Rick's mouth had been wet with blood and Daryl had wrestled him to the ground and bitten his neck to keep him still as they play fought until Rick was calm enough to mount. Rick doesn't know how Daryl can do that again – if he even _wants_ that. He thinks, crazy as he is, that it might be easier if he's only half a man when Negan comes to him. He can escape that way.

But Daryl's kiss lights him up and Rick needs it. _God_ , he needs it. He digs his fingers into the front of Daryl's sweatshirt and pulls him closer and lets Daryl lick into his mouth, bite his lower lip. It feels a thousand times better than when Negan did it. It feels right, Rick's body knows his mate. He shudders as he feels warmth and arousal curl up in his chest, an instinctive reaction to the feeling of Daryl's hands and the press of his mouth.

"No, no," he says frantically, pushing Daryl away until he's on the other side of the hallway. He shakes his head and wipes at his mouth. "No. Don't make me." If Daryl keeps going, Rick will get slick – he knows he will. After so long together just a look from Daryl is enough to set his physical reaction off, and he doesn't _want_ Negan to smell it. He doesn't want Negan to do that to him.

Daryl snarls, his eyes flashing red. He's pissed, angry at his mate for denying him his biological, Alpha right to Rick's body. He's probably angry at other things too but that's all Rick can register and he owes Daryl his body, his slick, his bared neck and sweet whines.

"Come on, boys!" Negan's voice floats up from below. "I'm not gonna wait on ya forever, and your kids are gettin' hungry!"

 _Kids_. That means Carl is downstairs too. Rick closes his eyes and whines, rubbing his hands over his face. "Oh God," he whispers, shaking his head again. "Daryl, I…I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do."

"No," Daryl replies. "I'm not going to do that."

"Why the fuck _not_?" Rick demands, growling.

"Because when this is all over and that bastard's blood is on my hands and in my mouth, I'm not going to say that he changed me. That he changed _us_."

He says it like it's a certainty. But it's not. What _is_ a certainty is that Negan is downstairs with Rick's children, he's in Rick's _home_ , and Negan is coated in his mate's scent and is going to do terrible things to Rick whenever the mood strikes him and Rick can't do a Goddamn thing about it because Daryl won't trump him, won't use his own voice to make Rick stop. Daryl stopped Rick from hurting Carl but he won't stop Rick from Negan.

And Rick knows he can't. They can't. But _God_ how he wants to.

He pushes himself upright on shaky legs and Daryl stands as well. He doesn't reach out to touch Rick again although Rick can feel how badly he wants to, burning him from the inside out. His eyes are still flickering red, Rick doesn't know if it'll ever fade away. He'll be stained, half-feral like Negan is.

They go downstairs and into the living room. There's a huge bowl of spaghetti in the center of the table and Negan is sitting at the head of it, Judith still in his arms. Carl is on one side of the table, glaring at Negan openly. There are two empty seats on the other side and Rick takes the one next to Negan, knowing without being told that that's where Negan wants him. Daryl takes the one farthest away, his head down but a growl rumbling deep in his chest.

"Took you guys long enough," Negan says in a jovial greeting. Rick winces. His voice is far too loud compared to Daryl's quiet words. "Rick, if you wouldn't mind? I'm starving, and you're so skinny, it's not good for keepin' a baby."

"My mom gave birth to her," Carl cuts in as Rick begins to scoop out food onto the stack of plates by the bowl. He gives Daryl a heavy portion, and Negan and Carl as well. He doesn't know if he can bear eating. He's hungry, it's clawing at his stomach like an animal, but he knows if he takes one bite he'll be sick. He puts a little on his plate just for something to mess with and sits back down.

Negan tuts. "So, no babies for your dad here, huh?" he asks, and bounces Judith to his other knee so that he can eat with his dominant hand. Judith burbles happily, tugging on Negan's jacket collar, and Rick is glad she's not male, can't smell the stink of sick-anxious Omega or enraged Alpha. "That's a shame."

Daryl growls lowly. He doesn't eat, but Rick sees him white-knuckling his fork like he's thinking about how quickly he might be able to leap up and stab Negan in the neck with it.

"I can't have children," Rick says when the silence stretches on just a little too long. "I got shot before…in the before. Fucked up that whole part of me. We had a doctor before coming here and he told me that."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Daryl frown and blink at him. Rick never told him that. Of course, it's rare for an Omega to get pregnant outside of a Heat cycle and Rick hasn't had one yet, too stressed or starving or a combination of both for his body's natural mating cycles to kick in, but Rick imagines he had assumed it would come just like any Omega's once Rick was relaxed, healthy, and settled enough.

Negan shakes his head. "That's a damn shame," he says around a mouthful of spaghetti. Carl is eating now, albeit slowly, his eye never straying from his sister or Negan for long. Negan gestures to Rick's plate. "Eat."

Rick shakes his head. "Not hungry."

"That wasn't a request."

Rick shivers, biting his lip as the Alpha Voice washes over his brain. It feels like part of him shuts down and he scoops up a mouthful of spaghetti on auto-pilot and brings it to his mouth. He feels like he's going to choke on it, it tastes like bland cardboard though he knows that's not the fault of the food. Nothing will taste good to him, nothing will make him want to eat it, he's sure, until he has his mate back by his side and his body stops withdrawing.

Negan smiles, pleased, and they continue to eat in silence. Daryl's anger and anticipation threaten to drown Rick, he can hardly see. He's in a room with two Alphas who smell like each other and one of them is his mate but the other is holding his child and using his Voice and Rick's head is fucked, it's so fucked.

Finally, Daryl snaps; "Can we just get this over with?"

Rick goes tense, instinctively, out of fear around his angry Alpha. He lets out a soft whine and wants to touch Daryl but Daryl is so angry, Rick isn't sure what he'll do if he tries. His fingers of his free hand curl and he presses his fist against his thigh.

Negan smirks and puts both hands on Judith, hoisting her out of his lap and over to Carl. "Why don't you two run along while I talk to your daddies?" he asks. Carl's face is pale as he takes Judith and he looks to Rick.

"It's alright, Carl," Rick says, and he knows he sounds tired. Defeated to the bone.

Carl's eye flashes to Daryl but he stands and leaves the room. No one moves until they hear the door close and then Negan sighs, sitting back in his seat and giving his belly a satisfied pat. "Daryl, why don't you go lock the door and give us some privacy?" he asks.

Daryl snarls, shoving himself to his feet hard enough that his chair scrapes against the floor, and leaves the room to lock the door. He returns almost instantly. Neither Negan nor Rick have moved.

Negan huffs. "You know, Rick, the more I get to know Daryl here, the more I'm convinced that you have really shitty taste in men." Rick flinches when Negan stands and Daryl snarls. He's sure if he weren't there that Daryl would lunge for Negan for that comment alone. "Maybe it's just proximity, hmm? Can't be a lot of choice out there for mates."

"You shut your fuckin' mouth," Daryl snarls, bristling.

Negan grins, slowly. "Rick, get up," he says, and Rick rises to his feet. He holds a hand out and Rick, after a moment of hesitation, walks over and lets Negan wrap his hand around his nape. He squeezes and Rick stumbles, almost falling to his knees and forced to use Negan as a support to keep himself upright.

"Now, why don't you tell Daryl to show us the way to the Honeymoon suite?" he says, grinning widely. Rick's eyes widen and go to Daryl. Daryl looks pale, his hands trembling. He was all bravado before but now it's happening, it's _really happening_ , and Rick can see how scared he is. He licks his lips and tries to be strong for both their sakes.

"Daryl," he whispers. He can hardly speak, his throat is sore and Negan's grip on his neck is making it difficult.

Daryl presses his lips together and turns, heading up the stairs. Negan's grip shifts to Rick's hair and he hauls Rick behind him like a caveman, forcing Rick to stumble to his hands and knees on the stairs and crawl desperately to keep up as Negan follows Daryl back to Rick's room. Rick feels a moment of panic – if Negan is in his room, then Daryl's scent will be compromised. He won't have anything left that isn't tainted with the other Alpha. He lets out a cry of alarm, a plea for Daryl to stop, but then Daryl throws the door wide open and the three of them step inside.

"Please, no," Rick begs, grabbing at Negan's jacket. "Not here."

He's frantic with it, pawing at the jacket but Negan's hand tightens in his hair and he jerks his hand, forcing Rick back onto his knees with a heavy thud. He's breathing heavily, his eyes wide, and he trembles as Negan's sharp, red eyes take in the room.

"Open the window," he says, and Daryl obeys with another low snarl. Rick groans, curling in on himself when he feels cool air from outside brush over his face. It'll all be gone – when Negan's done, all trace of Daryl's scent will be ruined. Rick will collapse, unravel from the inside, become dependent on these few, fleeting moments whenever Negan returns to use him. He'll need Daryl to be here, just for a taste of the real thing.

But at the same time he hopes Daryl never comes back. He doesn't want Daryl here. He doesn't want Daryl to _watch_ – because Rick is going to have to do terrible things, let Negan do terrible things _to_ him, if it means Alexandria won't burn.

Negan yanks on his hair and throws him on the bed. Rick doesn't dare move, he stays on his knees with his head bowed. "Daryl," Negan says, and Rick hears the click of a gun being cocked. "Get him ready for me."

Rick raises his eyes, gasping when he sees Negan is holding his gun, his pistol, and has it pointed at Daryl's forehead. Daryl stares right back at him and Rick wants to whimper, to beg – but he's not even sure what he would say. Mercy? Negan clearly has no mercy in him. His mind is racing, sluggish at it is. He has to find a way to make this easiest on all of them, the least damaging to him and Daryl so that, like Daryl said, when this is over, it won't change them.

But of course it will change them. An Omega can't lay with another Alpha and not be affected by it. Rick's body might go into open revolt at the first touch of Negan's hand on his skin.

But he can't let Daryl touch him either. His body, his mind, wouldn't recover from his real Alpha touching him and making him slick and then another swooping in and claiming the prize of his body from Daryl. He sucks in a breath and hopes that Daryl understands what he has to do, and forgives him for it.

"Alpha," he says weakly, and looks at Negan when both Negan and Daryl regard him. He bites his lip and tries to think about how good it feels when Daryl touches him. He thinks of the night with the Claimers, in that burned-out skeleton of a car. He thinks about Daryl, his hand over Rick's mouth to keep his moans and cries silent, fucking deeply into Rick's body and lighting up every nerve ending, every cell. He thinks about the prison where Daryl would take him to an abandoned cell block and mount him there. He thinks about the wild fights and chases they could have on the Greene farm where there was space to run and wrestle.

He thinks about all of that, as much as he can, until he feels his stomach start to heat up and can feel the first little threads of slick leaking out of his body. "I-I'm ready," he says, and Daryl looks like Rick just stabbed him in the heart. "Don't need him to get slick for you."

Negan cocks his head to one side, eyebrows raised, and takes an exaggerated inhale. His hold on Rick's gun doesn't waver.

"Well, I'll be," he says quietly.

He looks back to Daryl and Rick can feel Daryl's eyes burning into him but he doesn't dare take his gaze away from Negan. Negan smiles and then abruptly reaches out and grabs Daryl by the collar and hauls him towards the door.

"Change of plans," he says, and lets go of Daryl just long enough to open the door and shove him through, yanking it closed behind him.

"Rick!" Daryl yells, and Rick winces as he hears a thud on the other side like Daryl threw himself against it. The door isn't strong and Rick knows Daryl can break it down. " _Rick!_ Fuckin' _fight him_! Rick!"

"Keep that up and I'll shoot your mate right between the eyes," Negan snarls, deadly-soft. He cocks the hammer back and aims it at Rick and Rick ducks his head, closing his eyes. Daryl doesn't keep trying to kick the door down but Rick can hear him snarling. "Any funny business and he dies, Daryl. I'm not fuckin' around."

"Don't hurt him," Daryl begs, his voice muffled and he sounds so _tired_.

Negan smirks and turns to regard Rick. "Strip," he says, and Rick's eyes widen but he nods, putting his shaking hands to his clothes and taking them off as quickly as he can manage until he's naked and kneeling on his bed. Negan's red eyes rake over him like a physical touch, his fangs exposed as he smiles.

"Negan!" Daryl snarls, pounding his fist against the door, once. Then, he lets out a sound Rick has only heard a few times before – the sound he makes when he's gravely injured, too exhausted and weak to stay angry. Alphas turn to anger first, it makes them strong and keeps them going, but when that's gone, overcome or leaked away, they're as vulnerable as newborns. "Negan, _please_. I'll – I'll do what you want. Say what you want. Just don't…don't hurt him. _Please_."

"Mm, sorry boy, you lost that chance," Negan says, and then he locks Rick's door. He sets the gun down on the windowsill, far enough away that Rick can't lunge for it, and starts to undo his belt.

Rick watches with wide eyes and tilts his head up when Negan approaches him, a hand in his hair forcing his gaze up. He's shivering in the cool room, his brain in open revolt at the scent of Negan-Daryl on the Alpha's skin.

Negan smiles and crouches down, puts his other hand on Rick's thigh. "Let's see what you're offerin'," he says, his voice gentle and coaxing like sweet cyanide, and Rick bites his lower lip and nods. He lets Negan push his legs apart and lets the Alpha push him down onto his back. Negan remains fully clothed, covering him, the zips and harsh fabric of his jacket and jeans burning Rick's sensitive skin.

Negan breathes in deeply again, his red eyes flashing. "I'll say this, you sure do smell good, Rick."

"S-. So do you," Rick replies, and forces his hands to react and touch the Alpha like he wants them to. His gun gleams in the sunlight streaking in from the outside and he wants to reach for it. He could do it – kick Negan and shove him away and grab the gun and just _shoot_ , but his children are out there, the Saviors are out there, and they're outnumbered and outgunned and this was part of the deal, wasn't it?

He puts a hand on Negan's jaw and kisses the Alpha, wincing when Negan growls and his hand slides from Rick's thigh to between his legs. Rick is slick enough to feel it, but it hurts when Negan shoves two fingers into him without warning. He lets out a low whimper and hopes it sounds needy enough to convince the Alpha.

Negan bites at his mouth and forces his tongue inside and Rick shakes when he feels his body, too touch-starved and unsteady to resist – react to the hormones in the Alpha's saliva. It's a natural instinct to kickstart the slick response in an Omega and Rick feels his body react like clockwork, Negan smells just enough like Daryl that Rick's body doesn't know any better and he clenches up around Negan's fingers, whimpering when the Alpha pushes deep and curls them.

"Been a long time since I fucked a boy as pretty as you," Negan says. Rick thinks he might be sick. He's starting to sweat despite the cool air. His beard scrapes Rick's stubble-ridden jaw and it burns and his mouth is sore from Negan's teeth.

"Please, Alpha," Rick begs, and he hates himself for it and thinks his vocal cords might tear themselves to shreds in protest.

Negan smiles and shoves in a third finger and Rick gasps, whining sweetly, his hips bucking up to try and escape the sudden, painful stretch. It won't be anything compared to Negan's knot, he knows that, and he has to try and get his body relaxed enough to take it or risk tearing something, but he's not sure that he can.

Negan pulls away and puts a hand on Rick's throat, squeezing tight enough that Rick's vision starts to grey at the edges. He grabs at Negan's arm, tries to get him to move, but Negan doesn't until he finally gives and Rick gasps, dizzy from lack of air. He's sure there will be a bruise on his neck from Negan's hand.

Negan pulls his fingers out and growls softly, putting his hands back to his belt and pulling the halves free. "I know Omegas like you," he says, almost like a threat. He lets go of his belt once it's loose and tugs on Rick's hips, forcing him to roll over onto his hands and knees. "Wild ones that like to play rough. You like to play rough, Rick?" he asks, and his hand connects sharply with Rick's ass before he can answer.

Rick cries out, wincing, his skin stinging sharply when Negan hits him again, but he digs his fingers into the sheets and nods. "Yeah," he says, and hopes that the hoarseness of his voice comes across as desire. In truth he's terrified, shaking to the bone. He hears Negan pull his belt free and gasps when Negan leans over him, mimicking mounting him. It's like play fighting but it's rougher, there's real threat behind it and Rick sucks in a breath when Negan wraps the belt around his throat and pulls until it's tight.

He claws at it, trying to get some relief, but Negan just laughs and pulls harder until Rick feels like he might pass out. He lets it go loose for a brief moment and then Rick hears him tugging at his jeans and his cock rubs along Rick's slick hole.

Negan covers him, pressing him down from all sides. Rick's thighs tremble from trying to hold his weight and his neck hurts and he's breathing hard. He can't hear Daryl anymore, hopes that he isn't still outside the door and can't hear what's happening. He hopes – God, Daryl shouldn't have to hear this.

Negan growls right into his ear and Rick shudders. "If you're real good, I'll be gentler next time," he says, and Rick lets out a broken sob at the thought of a 'next time'. "But you know how it is. Omegas like you need to learn their place. You been out here too long, in charge too long, gotta remind you how the world really works."

He doesn't go slow and he doesn't give Rick time to adjust as he ruts his hips back and starts to force his cock inside. Rick cries out, high-pitched and pained as he feels Negan's cock splitting him open. He feels huge and it burns, aches like Rick has been shot all over again. Negan's hand tightens on his belt and pulls and Rick chokes, his eyes watering as he tries to breathe and be still as the Alpha fucks into him in one smooth thrust, until his rough jeans connect with Rick's bare thighs and he's all the way inside.

Negan snarls, heavy, his voice thick with Alpha command and Rick's head feels like he dipped it in molten metal. Everything hurts, everything is in open rebellion against him. He wants to claw away, dig a hole through the mattress and the floor and retreat through the floorboards. Daryl has never been this rough with him, this cavalier with his body. But the Alpha behind him smells like Daryl and so does his bed and Rick aches because he thinks he might not ever be able to sleep in this room again.

"God _damn_ , boy, your ass is nice and tight," Negan snarls, sounding smug. "Not slick enough, though. I don't need to go get Daryl, do I?"

It's a trick, a ploy. Rick knows it. If Rick asks for Daryl it'll be so much worse.

"Feels good, Alpha," he tries to say, his voice wrecked from the belt and unsteady. He works his hips back and tries to think of anything he can to make his body produce more slick. He reaches back and puts a hand on Negan's thigh. "Please, fuck me."

"Mm, not very convincing, Rick," Negan says, but he starts to move and Rick knows it'll get easier. There's only so much his body can resist, after all, before instinct and physiology starts to take over. Already he's getting looser, more readily accepting the Alpha's powerful thrusts as Negan fucks in.

He's hitting something deep in Rick. It hurts, it's uncomfortable like Lori would tell him sometimes during the time of the month she was least fertile. It's the place where an Alpha's seed would pool and thicken and make him swell with a child. He can't get pregnant, but he thinks Negan would like the thought of trying anyway.

"Please," he begs weakly, gritting his teeth as Negan fucks into him again. "Please, Alpha – Negan. Negan, _please_."

"'Please', what?"

He's taunting Rick, breaking him apart at the seams. Rick wants to die, but who would make sure Carl and Judith were safe? "Please, fuck me," he says, and turns his head so that Negan can see his face. His eyes are itching, showing his gold. "I wanna be good, and provide for you – wanna, _fuck_." Negan thrusts in again and it hurts, _God_ it hurts, and the belt around his neck is robbing him of air and he can't fucking _see_. "Wanna breed for you."

Negan shudders and Rick knows he's got him. All Alphas love the thought of breeding an Omega or woman, carrying on their genetic line in strong mating and play partners.

"Yeah, now that you've got an Alpha strong enough to put you in your place, you want it, don't you?" Negan's hand tugs on the belt and Rick gasps but forces himself to nod. Negan's free hand presses down on Rick's shoulder, forcing his head down and his ass up so that the Alpha can fuck into him with more force, deeper, hurting that place inside of Rick. Daryl had become so good at finding that spot in him that made this pleasurable. For all the other things that make him a wonderful Alpha, he's attentive and sure and the first time he and Rick had gone from play fighting to a real mounting he'd made sure he knew every spot on Rick that Rick liked touched, kissed, before he'd gone any further.

Negan is nothing like that. Rick isn't hard and doubts he'll get there with the rough treatment but he also knows Negan doesn't give a fuck if he gets off or not.

"Please," Rick whimpers.

Negan hums and his hand moves from Rick's shoulder. Rick doesn't see what he's doing but then he hears something soft and metallic and freezes when he feels the cold edge of a knife against his back. His eyes go wide.

"Gonna make sure you never forget this, Rick," he growls softly, voice low with arousal. Rick can feel it, and Negan is still using his Alpha Voice so every word is branded into Rick's skull and the back of his neck.

He turns the knife and Rick howls when he feels it cut. The blade is sharp, the pain doesn't come until the sensation of blood welling up follows after it. Negan doesn't stop moving – he's using the belt to tug Rick into a rhythm, forcing him to work his hips back and forward on Negan's cock as Negan continues to cut him. His vision is whiting out and he _hurts_ , and he aches and he wishes with all his might he'd just killed Negan that night in the woods.

Negan laughs, and then Rick feels the knife go away. His back is bleeding heavily, the wetness of it dripping down his spine and mixing with his slick, and dripping onto the bedsheets. Negan lets go of the belt and Rick gasps and then both of Negan's hands go to his hips to hold him still.

The Alpha fucks in once, twice, a heavy grunt in the air and the sound of their bodies colliding together like disharmonious notes, and then Rick trembles when he feels Negan's knot swell and lock them together. Negan doesn't stop thrusting, forcing Rick's sore rim to stretch around his knot as he pulls out and then forces it back in. Rick feels a harsh, stinging pain, and knows that Negan has ripped him on the inside too, his body isn't meant to take a knot in and out once it's swelled up.

Negan lets out a heavy, satisfied breath. When he's done coming he pulls out of Rick and slides the belt from Rick's neck. He slaps the halves together with a loud cracking sound and Rick flinches, biting his lower lip. Every part of him aches – his thighs from holding Negan's weight, his neck is badly bruised, his back stings and his ass feels split apart.

Negan stands and adjusts his clothes and then he hauls Rick to his feet by his hair and kisses him. Rick whimpers and clutches at him because if he doesn't he'll collapse on himself like a dead star. "Was I – was it good, Alpha?" he asks, because he has to know. He has to know if Negan will do this to him again.

Negan smiles, slow and wide. There's a stain on the front of his jeans now – blood and come and Rick's slick. It's pink and barely visible on the black but it's there and Rick can smell it. The room _reeks_ of Negan's scent and Rick knows he can't come back here. He'll have to set the whole damn house on fire to feel clean again.

"Room for improvement," Negan says, and Rick shudders. Negan puts his free hand to Rick's neck and drags his nails across the imprint of his belt. "Put on some pants. No shirt. I want you to see me out."

Alexandria will see. They'll see the bruises, and whatever Negan cut into him, but Rick can't refuse. He nods and pulls on a pair of his jeans and Negan grabs his gun and his knife and puts them away. Then he yanks Rick close by the hair and forces him outside.

Daryl is in the hallway, sitting, his face turned away and his eyes closed, but he leaps to attention when the door opens. He freezes, his eyes wide and a shocked look on his face before Rick sees his expression explode with anger and knows that he looks worse than he feels.

"Alright, Daryl, home time," Negan says with a grin. "The men are probably getting restless."

Daryl reaches for Rick and Rick flinches from him. He can't afford to show favoritism now. Besides, how can Daryl stand to touch him, with the marks and scent of another Alpha on his skin? He feels dirty to the bone, he's not sure anything less than lava could cleanse him now.

Negan walks him out to the gate and by the time they get there, there's a crowd gathered. The Saviors have their trucks idling and Negan smiles at his second-in-command, a man named Simon, and nods to them to get ready to leave. They disperse and Negan turns to look at Rick and lets his head go.

Rick closes his eyes and sighs, sinking to his knees in front of the Alpha. Negan leans down and whispers in his ear; "You should thank me for being such a good Alpha for you, givin' you what you really need."

Daryl is in earshot. Rick knows because he hears the Alpha snarl. "Thank you," Rick says, because he can't _not_ , Negan's Alpha Voice is sitting heavy in his head and he can't disobey because Daryl isn't saying anything. He lifts his eyes when Negan straightens. "Thank you, Negan."

Negan laughs. Simon comes forward and gives him his bat before getting into the remaining truck. "I'll be back in another week," he says, addressing the rest of the crowd. "Keep it up, guys – you're all showin' some _real_ promise here."

Then he looks at Daryl and whistles, beckoning him over like a dog to its master. Daryl snarls, lifting his upper lip, but goes. It's as though no one noticed him there before. Rick can feel the shock spread along the gathered crowd as they see Daryl approach Negan.

How can he stand there and do nothing, while his mate kneels for another?

"I promise I'll let you watch next time," Negan says, loud enough for everyone else to hear, and then he grabs Daryl by the collar and pulls him towards the last truck. They get in and drive away and Rick falls to his hands and knees, his head raised so that he can watch Daryl sitting in the back of the truck. The Alpha's eyes are on him, defeated and molten with impotent rage. Then the trucks turn the corner and the gate slides closed.

"Dad!" Carl rushes up to him, a blanket in his hands to cover Rick from sight. Rick straightens and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'll kill him." That's Aaron. The Alpha's eyes are red and he looks just as angry as Daryl had. Rick has never seen Aaron's eyes go so red before. The crowd has other Alphas in it and they look just as enraged – mistreatment of the pack Omega used to be a capital offense, back in the 'good old days'.

"What did he write?" Rick asks, lowering the blanket again. He has to know.

Aaron shakes his head. "Rick -."

" _What did he write_?" Rick's voice is hoarse and barely there but he forces himself to ask it.

Aaron bites his lip, his eyes dropping to Rick's shoulder. He shakes his head again.

"It says…"

"It says 'I am Negan'," Carl finishes, his voice flat. His eye is red, fists clenched so hard his knuckles are white.

Rick presses his lips together and pulls the blanket back up around his shoulders. He can see Spencer in the crowd and braces himself for more disgust, more anger, but nothing of the kind comes. Spencer looks…shocked. Like he's just been given unequivocal proof that the Earth is flat.

He walks forward and comes to a stop in front of Rick, blowing out a hard breath. "I…"

Rick winces. "Can we not do this now?"

Spencer shakes his head. "That's not -."

"You don't get to speak to him," Carl says angrily. He tugs on Rick's hand. "Dad, let's get you home."

"No," Rick says, sometimes like panic welling up in his wrecked throat. "I can't go back there."

Michonne comes forward. "Come stay with me," she says. Rick nods, grateful at the gesture. He lets her take his hand and lead her towards her house. No one says anything else.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_"We're on easy street…and it feels so sweet…"_

"I swear to God, you maggot-sucking fucked up piece of shit, if I hear that song _one more time_ I'm gonna rip your fucking throat out!"

The song doesn't stop and Daryl snarls. As soon as they'd gotten back to the Saviors' camp and he'd been thrown back in his cell, the fight had returned to him full force. It was like he'd been in shock, before. Yes, Negan had told him what was going to happen, had laid it out plain as day, and then the time came and Daryl had still done _nothing_.

What could he have done? Negan had a gun to his mate's head and Rick had still managed to get slick, to force his body into readiness and Daryl had been able to smell it and _God_ , Rick still smells so fucking good, even after everything.

Rick will stink of Negan. Even if he showers, and burns, and scrapes his own skin off until it's bleeding and raw, Daryl will _know_ that Negan was inside of his mate, marking that secret part of him that was meant only for Daryl. Daryl vows, when he's out of here, he'll mount Rick over the bloodstain of Negan's body and reclaim that space inside of him, in his head and his body and his heart. He'll make Rick howl for him and soak himself in Rick's slick and his scent.

His fists are bloody from beating them against the door and his throat is scraped raw from shouting and snarling.

Abruptly the song goes quiet and Daryl snarls, immediately on high alert. The song only stops when Negan is here. He flinches when he hears Negan's bat collide with the door and growls again but stands back when the door opens.

Negan greets him with a smile, wide like a cat that caught the canary. "Daryl!" he crows, swinging the bat out to get Daryl to step even farther back until his shoulders collide with the dirty wall. "Good to see you, my boy. How you holdin' up?"

Daryl bares his teeth, his body trembling with the desire to rush Negan and beat him to a bloody pulp. Negan hasn't showered and Daryl knows it's because he still _stinks_ of Rick's slick. Daryl can smell it when he takes a deep breath through his nose. Negan's hair is greasy but he seems to delight in the fact that everyone can smell Rick on him.

"Don't gotta be like that," Negan says, and steps in. Daryl whines. The scent of his mate is so strong, like Negan swapped their skins.

"Why did you do that?" he asks, because he can't stop himself asking. "You got wives here. Thought you didn't swing that way."

"I think _everyone_ swings Rick's way," Negan replies. Daryl can't even argue that point. The amount of times someone has made a comment to Rick – both before and after Daryl claimed him – about his pretty eyes or his 'sweet ass' is countless. "Gotta say, though, I sure am a lucky sonovabitch to get somethin' like him in my wheelhouse. Ain't every day a man gets to say he fucked a claimed Omega while his mate was in the same Goddamn house."

Daryl flinches at the reminder. He'd stayed outside the door. He'd heard everything. Every choked off plea, every snap of Negan's hips connecting with Rick's body. Every cry and whimper, he'd heard it. And smelled Rick's slick, and Negan's come. He'd heard it when Negan knotted Rick, when Negan cut him.

He'd listened to it all and done _nothing_.

"What do you _want_ , Negan?" Daryl demands. "What's the end game here? You can't win."

"Not sure what reality you're living in, boy, but it sure as Hell seems like I'm winnin'."

Daryl's eyes narrow and his fists clench tightly. He forces himself not to say anything else. The last time he'd called Negan's bluff, Rick had suffered for it. "You'll turn him feral, you keep goin' like this," he finally murmurs. "I know you don't want that. He's no good to you crazy."

"Crazy ones are the best in the sack, Daryl. That's like the fourth law of physics or somethin'."

Daryl closes his eyes and turns his face away. "There a reason you're here other than to fuck with me?"

"Can't that be reason enough?" Negan asks, grinning. When Daryl is silent he rolls his eyes and huffs. "But, fine, skip the foreplay _again_. You're no fun. Come on." Then he turns and leaves. The door is open. Daryl's eyes widen and he follows like he's being led by the teeth.

Negan leads him outside and into the yard. Beyond the chain-link fence are walkers in various stages of decay, bound up against the fence or wandering around towards the other tracksuit-clad Alphas that are bearing letters and markings like Daryl is. Negan lets out a short whistle and an Alpha comes forward with a small trowel.

He hands it to Daryl and jerks his head towards the fence. "Time to earn your keep," he says.

"My mate ain't enough for ya?" Daryl spits.

Negan's expression darkens, and he gestures with his bat towards a small opening in the fence that's being guarded by two Alphas. It leads to a small path than then opens out into the yard where the walkers are. "I won't ask twice," he says, and Daryl snarls at him but goes. He allows himself to be locked outside and immediately a walker lunges for him. He jams his elbow into the side of its head and it goes to its hands and knees and then he shoves his foot against its head, forcing it down and then shoves the blunt head of the trowel through its skull.

He stands up and has just enough time to see Negan grinning before another one lunges for him. Daryl has no choice but to focus on not getting himself killed as the gate closes behind him. He has no idea how long Negan will keep him out here, but it's already turning dark and will soon become difficult to see.

He imagines each walker is Negan and kills each one with a viciousness that startles him but doesn't shock him. Each fresh kill is like a blessing, reminding him that he's not some beaten dog in a cage. He's an Alpha, a strong one despite how hard Merle and his daddy tried to stop that happening. He's strong enough to tame someone like Rick, to earn his trust and love and loyalty. He's strong enough to survive getting shot, beaten, starved, and hunted like a deer in springtime. He's strong enough to keep killing walkers even after all the other Alphas trapped here have collapsed from exhaustion. He tries to protect some of them but there are too many walkers and soon it's just him. He claims a shovel from a fallen Alpha and uses that as well to smash their brains in.

Each time, he imagines it's Negan's face, and it keeps him going well on until the dawn.

 

 

Rick drags his mattress and his sheets and all the things that have traces of Daryl's scent – _Negan's,_ it's _Negan's_ he has a problem with – on them and he burns them. He lights a fire just like the one Daryl put on the lake when the walls had fallen and the walkers had threatened to overcome them. He watches it burn and doesn't feel the heat.

Michonne lets him sleep in her house, although Rick isn't sure he can count the few short, shitty hours he got as sleep. He's so tired, he wants to walk onto the pile and lay down on his mattress and let the flames consume him.

It's several hours before the flames die out and the night is dark and the air nips at his exposed skin like an annoyed dog. He pulls his clothes tighter around himself, shivering against the cold, and closes his eyes when he hears hesitant steps approach him.

It's Spencer. Rick recognizes his scent. He lifts his head and the Alpha is looking at the pile of burned clothes, his eyes dark and flickering red.

"I know I said…" Spencer clenches his fists and bares his teeth. "I want…"

Rick doesn't care what Spencer wants. As far as he's concerned, maybe this whole place would be better off if he burned it to the ground. Maybe next time Negan's here Rick will beg him to order him to do it. That way, at least, he won't have to live with the guilt of watching the light go out of Alexandria.

Rick remained silent and turns his face back towards the now-smoldering pile. It's a wonder, he thinks, after a shower almost too hot to stand, and fresh clothes, and burning it all, he still doesn't feel clean. His dreams had been filled with Daryl, disgusted at him for letting Negan touch him even though they both know he didn't have a choice. The thought of losing his mate all over again when this is done fills him with a cold knot of anxiety unlike what he's ever felt. He hasn't felt this insane since Lori died.

"I want to kill him," Spencer finally breathes, and Rick presses his lips together and nods. It's a natural Alpha response, and not out of any love for Rick, that Spencer is feeling like this. Taking over another Alpha's back means that Negan has the rights to any and all of the resources there but deliberately mistreating the pack Omega used to be punishable by death, even for a usurper. But who would dare?

"There's a line," Rick finally says, his voice weak and hoarse from the smoke. He winces and rubs at his sore neck. The belt mark had darkened to a defined bruise, purple and yellow on his skin. If he moves just right he can still feel it choking him. Like a leash on a dog.

Spencer growls quietly and then Rick hears Carl. "Hey!" Carl runs up and puts himself between Spencer and Rick, glaring up at the other Alpha. "I said you don't get to talk to him."

"Carl, it's fine." Rick thinks about reaching up and touching Carl's arm but he can't make himself move. Maybe he'll turn to stone here, forged by the fire, and nothing will hurt anymore.

Carl growls at Spencer again but then turns to Rick. "Glenn and Maggie are back," he says. "Rosita and Enid too."

Rick nods and pushes himself to his feet. His legs are shaky but he forces himself upright and to stand under his own strength, pitiful though it is. "Where are they?" he asks.

"Michonne's," Carl replies, and Rick nods again and turns away from the pyre. He walks slowly, too stiff to move right. Without Denise there's no one with enough medical knowledge that he trusts to have a look at him. The only thing he's legitimately worried about are, thankfully, none of his concern. He can't get pregnant. That thought is something he clings to. He'd die if he bore Negan's pup into the world.

Carl follows him to Michonne's house and opens the door for him. Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, and Rosita are gathered around the table. Enid is standing by Maggie's side and Rick is too relieved to speak when he sees that she looks better. There's another Omega there – it's Jesus, Rick recognizes him immediately. Jesus' eyes go wide when he sees Rick and he lets out a quiet whimper of distress.

Glenn straightens, his eyes flickering red. "Michonne told us what happened," he says, and Rick is glad because it means he doesn't have to. He sits down and winces, pulling on the halves of his t-shirt so that it stretches across his back and shoulders.

"When is he due back?" Maggie asks, her soft voice heavy with worry.

Rick frowns. He can't remember. How long has it been? "Five days," Carl says flatly, taking the last chair by Rick's side. "He's gonna come back and -."

"We don't have enough food or weapons to offer him," Rick says, shaking his head. "We don't have enough for ourselves."

"Hilltop will help you," Jesus says, determined and quiet. His eyes are on Rick's neck and Rick wants to hide the marks there but at the same time he doesn't. He knows if enough Alphas see it, if they see him beaten and bruised, they'll be more willing to fight when they find their sea legs, but Rick shudders at what that might cost him in the meantime. He can't make himself eat, he barely sleeps, he's wasting away and soon he'll be no better than the monsters beating at their walls.

Still, he forces himself to smile and nod in thanks. Jesus returned the gesture and Rick wants to ask why Jesus wasn't taken like he was. Why Negan didn't see him and immediately want to conquer him as well. But, of course, Jesus isn't the man in charge of Hilltop, and Gregory doesn't need any convincing to cower and sway to Negan's rule.

It's _because_ Rick is in charge, _because_ he was defiant, that the punishment is so heavy. He knows that. He hates it.

"You should go back to Hilltop," he tells Maggie. "If Negan knows you're alive he'll try and take the baby. We'll dig a grave and tell him it's yours. You and Glenn should go."

"I'm not leaving you," Glenn bites, baring his teeth as his eyes flicker another deep, red shade. "Without Daryl you need all the friendly Alphas you can get."

Rick flinches. It's true, but it's not enough. Nothing will be enough. "I have Aaron," he says. "And I have Carl."

"I can _help_ here," Glenn argues.

Rick doesn't have the strength to fight him, but he tries all the same. "Glenn, please," he says, and finally lifts his eyes to meet the Alpha's. Glenn hesitates when their gazes meet. "I'm asking you as my friend. _Please_ , just leave. _Both_ of you."

Glenn opens his mouth to protest but Maggie puts a hand on his arm and shakes her head. "We'll go," she promises, and Rick breathes out a weak sigh of relief. "We'll go and organize a supply transfer, whatever we can spare. We're going to make it out of this, Rick."

Rick shakes his head. He's honestly not sure how, but doesn't have the heart to tell her that. Rick has always overcome, it's why they so avidly and ardently followed him in the first place, but now he's up against a thousand-foot wall and has no idea how to climb it or skirt around it. The only answer is through but there's no way out.

 

 

Daryl forces himself to watch as Negan presses the hot iron to a man's face. Near him, in the semicircle of Alphas high on the joy of seeing the man suffer, a petite blonde woman is openly sobbing into her hands. The scent of burning flesh will finally make Negan shower – it's the first thought that springs into his head and he clings to it desperately. He won't smell like Rick anymore – that will be a small blessing all on its own.

Of course, if he doesn't smell like Rick anymore, it will probably make him all the more eager to coat himself in Rick's scent again. Abruptly the hope vanishes and Daryl clenches his jaw and meets Negan's eyes as the Alpha grins. He's looking right at Daryl.

 _This is what I do when people touch what's mine_.

Daryl bit his lip to stop himself smirking. Oh, Negan would be beg by the time he learned what Daryl did when people touch what's _his_.

The man screams until he passes out from the pain. He pisses himself and the scent is a sharp undercoat for the smell of singed hair and skin. Daryl thinks of his mother and tries not to vomit.

He doesn't understand men like Negan. Oh, he was raised knowing all kinds of deep darkness Alphas can hold in their hearts, but this Alpha feels like an element all his own. He takes what he wants, but he'd wanted Alexandria for so long – he has the men, Daryl knows that now, to take any place he wants in this day and age. His Alphas are loyal to him, terrifyingly so, brainwashed to the point of murderous cattle or rabid dogs.

So Negan could have taken Alexandria whenever he wanted. But he'd waited. He'd waited until he had motive to take the place – _real_ motive, like the death of his men at Rick's hands. If he suspects Hilltop's involvement or not is a moot point, he already has that. But then he was presented with the idea of a leader, that had clawed his way into the safe harbor and overtaken it and turned them all into savages. And then to find out that that leader, this incredible man, is an _Omega…_

The ultimate conquest.

He doesn't need more supplies. The Saviors are almost sickeningly healthy, all of them. They have enough medicine and guns and food to last several lifetimes, and that was before depleting Alexandria. They didn't _need_ the place, but Negan had wanted it, had eyed it like the promised land.

Daryl growls, shoving the sharp end of a metal pole into the head of a walker. Since the other Alphas had fallen he'd gotten better weapons. There are hardly any walkers along the walls now except the ones Negan had bound. Daryl snarls and fells another.

It's an advantage Negan can't afford to lose. Having Rick's submission is lovely, Daryl knows that better than anyone, but it's not sustainable. Not with someone like Negan, who takes and hurts without qualm and without care. People like Rick _can't_ stay still with that for long. He'll snap, he'll break, he _has_ to, just like when Lori died, just like with the Claimers, just like in Terminus. But Daryl fears every time he does, like a little bit of Rick dies with it. He doesn't know, wrecked as Rick is, if he can survive that kind of break again.

He has to stay strong. He will _not_ let Negan break him. He has to fight.

 

 

"We have to fight."

Silence meets his words, but it's an agreeing silence. The gathered Alphas are nodding with him. The stench of anger is bitter and strong in the room.

"We have to get Daryl back, first."

He nods. "How many usually come?" he asks, trying to remember himself.

"Twenty, give or take."

"So many." It's a dismayed sound.

"We can handle it."

"How? We have no guns!"

"I know Michonne stashed _something_. And if not, we can just do it the good ol' fashioned way."

"An ambush would work best. They don't know the area. We could get them before they even get in the gates."

"Rick will never allow it."

"Rick doesn't have to know."

The Alphas stir restlessly. Even though Rick had said so himself, he's still their leader. He will always be their leader, and even if not that, he's the pack Omega. Pack Omegas are to be protected beyond all else.

"Negan will bring Daryl back. Heard him say so himself. We ambush the trucks, kill who we have to, get Daryl and bring him Negan's head."

This time the Alphas are more ready. The promise of bloodshed never fails. One of them stands and plants his hands on the table, a wide smile on his face.

"Negan's coming in less than three days. We got work to do."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short, sad chapter for another breather before the real action happens. Enjoy!

The next time Rick wakes up, he vomits blood. He leans over the edge of Michonne's couch, robbed of cushions from the last time the Saviors here, and heaves what little food he's managed to eat, and bile, and amid it all is a thick trail of dark red that mixes with the rotten-smelling puddle.

He groans, pushing his sweaty forehead against the arm of the couch, and grits his teeth and tries not to let the smell get to him and make him throw up again. There's nothing in his stomach to lose, just acid and air, and he tries to breathe through his mouth but his breath is sour and stale and he stinks, from head to toe. He reeks of something darker than sweat and blood, but the poison from Negan leaching into his skin. A stain he'll never be rid of.

"…Dad?" Carl whispers, and Rick closes his eyes and turns his face away. He doesn't want to look at his son. A hand goes to the back of his fever-red neck and squeezes and he moans weakly. Carl's hand feels tiny and cold against Rick's heated skin and he sighs. Carl's thumb brushes under his hairline and rubs down the throbbing tendon in the back of Rick's neck and Rick feels the couch dip beside him as Carl sits down.

Rick wants to die. The cut on his back is throbbing, stinging from his sweat. It might be infected for all he knew and wouldn't that just be a cherry on top of the fuck-you cake that life was serving him. At least he couldn't get pregnant – that was the only saving grace he could allow himself to afford.

Carl rubs his neck again, his other hand coming forward and spreading out over Rick's shoulders, which are tense, his clothes clinging damply to his muscles. Rick sighs again, relaxing a little despite himself at the touch of a familiar Alpha, so gentle and cool. He doesn't remember what he was dreaming about, but he can guess. There's no way for him to close his eyes and not see the red in Negan's, taste him on his lips and breathe in the choking scent of him and Daryl combined.

"He's coming today," Rick says.

"Don't think about it," Carl replies, though he must know how impossible that request is.

Rick hums and doesn't remind him.

"Do you think you can eat?" Carl asks.

"I guess I should try," Rick says. Carl nods and his hands withdraw and Rick bites his lower lip hard enough to stop the whimper escaping. He sits up and wipes his hands across his forehead, pushing his hair back from his face and scratching at the scruff on his jaw and neck. He wants to shave, but it'll make him look younger and prettier, and his bare skin will burn from Negan's beard when Negan comes back. It's aggravating beyond belief, and conjures up impotent rage, that he's being robbed of his own personal choices when it comes to his body. Not just his freedom, his leadership, his mate and the loyalty of his family and pack, but this too. How is it possible for one man to have such dominion over another?

He follows Carl into the dining room, his movements lethargic and stumbling. Every time he lifts his leg to step forward, his feet drag and his toes catch on the ground. When he tries to move his arms, they instead hang listlessly like someone cut the strings of a marionette. He's weak, dizzy, and now he's coughing up blood.

He sits at his place at the table, to the right of the head. No one else appears to be awake and when Rick looks up and outside he sees why – it's still dark. Not even lightening with the dawn. And the clock on the wall says it's just past four in the morning.

He frowns when Carl returns with plain, cut-up chicken breast and some bread. "What're you doin' up this early?" he asks, having just realized how early it actually is. Since Carl had come to him so quickly he had assumed it was later in the day.

Carl doesn't reply straight away. He takes his place at Rick's back and flattens both hands across Rick's neck, massaging the sides of his throat, up and under the line of his jaw and then back, thumbs dragging down the tendons in Rick's nape. It feels like he's trying to coax Rick to swallow whenever he takes a bite of food. He can't bear to have it in his mouth long enough to taste or chew it, so he tears off tiny pieces and swallows them whole – first of the chicken, because it's hot and burns his fingertips and the roof of his mouth, and then the bread as he starts to feel full.

"Couldn't sleep," he finally says. The Saviors had taken all of their mattresses and most of their blankets. Thankfully it's still relatively warm at night but they're going to start hurting for warmth too. Soon they'll be like the group was when they were on the road, huddling together for body heat and shivering in the cold.

Rick flinches when his stomach leaps and he pushes the plate of food away, half-finished. He barely ate more than a few bites. "Dad," Carl says, low and worried, "you gotta eat. _Please_."

Rick shakes his head and stands. "I'm gonna go for a walk," he says. "Alone."

"I really don't think you should be alone right now."

Rick looks at his son. Across the dining room table Carl looks so small but he's standing straight, his jaw clenched and his eye narrowed as though expecting Rick to fight him. Rick wants to fight him. He wants to find that _spark_ , that half-feral spike of energy that had kept him going through Terminus, and the Claimers, and Lori's death. But it's gone. Maybe it was taken away when Daryl was. Maybe it's just so far buried that he'll never get it back.

Maybe he's gone soft, too comfortable and assured in his place here to keep it close to his heart where the fire burns.

He turns away and leaves the house, a soft sigh falling from him as his shoulders slump. Carl doesn't follow, as Rick goes outside and the screen door shuts with a quiet click. The air is cool and humid, making it difficult to breathe. It feels like his head is stuffed with cotton and he waves a hand at a passing mosquito, growling under his breath as he swats the thing away and starts to walk.

He walks towards the back of the compound, away from the gate where there's less of a chance that he'll be seen. Michonne's house is near the front of the complex but no one sees him or bothers him as he walks towards the little lake. The pile of Daryl's clothes and his mattress are still there, little more than a blackened remnant.

He sits down in front of it, crossing his legs and putting his head in his hands. He takes in a deep, shuddering breath, and lets it back out. In, and out. In, hold it, three seconds, four, out…

"Rick, is that you?"

It's Aaron. Rick closes his eyes and lowers his hands, before he opens his eyes again and raises his head to look at the Alpha as he approaches. Aaron's eyes are wide, his expression one of concern. Rick sighs and turns back to look at the pile.

"Comin' back from the walls?" he asks.

Aaron nods, coming to a stop beside Rick. He doesn't sit. "What're you doin' up?"

"Had a nightmare," Rick says, before he winces. "I think." He didn't even clean up the mess he made on Michonne's floor. He should go back and do that, if Carl hasn't done it already. Again, helplessness and anger mix in his chest, but it's quiet and limp. There's no energy there.

Aaron lets out a quiet hum, before he kneels next to Rick and reaches out. His fingers hesitate, curling, and Rick turns to look at his hand. "Would you let me?" he asks, and Rick nods, closing his eyes and going lax as Aaron pets a gentle hand through his sweaty hair and squeezes his nape gently. It's a placating touch, natural for pack Alphas to do for their Omegas. It feels nice – Aaron's hand is larger and warmer than Carl's, or maybe Rick is just colder now. He leans into the touch and lets Aaron pet him, nails scratching lightly at the base of his neck as the Alpha runs a hand through his hair again.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you," he says quietly. "If I'd have been there -."

"It would have gone down the same," Rick replies, shaking his head. "There's nothing you could have done. I started this."

Aaron presses his lips together and Rick looks at him. "What?" he asks, sensing Aaron needs to tell him something.

"I gotta…" Aaron sighs, looking over their shoulders as though anyone else would be up at this Godforsaken hour. "I gotta tell you somethin'. Spencer's planning something."

Rick frowns. "Planning what?" he asks, anxiety curling up in his throat and making it difficult to speak.

Aaron hesitates again. He squeezes Rick's nape as though trying to force him to be lax, but Rick is too tense to relax. His shoulders stay tight, his heart is hammering. If Spencer is planning a mutiny, well, Rick expected that to happen. But Negan will kill him. He's sure Negan will kill Spencer if he tries anything.

"An ambush," Aaron finally says, and Rick's eyes widen. "He called a meeting of a bunch of Alphas the other night. They're going to try and take Negan out before he gets to the gates, they're going to rescue Daryl and kill them all, he said."

"He told you this?" Rick breathes.

"Tobin did," Aaron says. "He was in the meeting."

"Spencer wouldn't do that," Rick says. "He hates me."

"He hates Negan more, I think," Aaron replies. "We all do, after seeing what he did to you."

Rick nods, rubbing at his bruised throat almost absently. This is what he'd wanted, isn't it? If enough Alphas saw the marks often enough they'd be forced into action. Mistreatment of the pack Omega demands nothing less.

But he can't. This isn't right. If they fail… "He can't," he whines, looking at Aaron again with pleading eyes. "You have to talk him out of it. Negan will…" He stops. He doesn't want to think about what Negan will do if the plan should fail.

"I know," Aaron says. "I tried. I couldn't talk him out of it. He's got about a dozen Alphas ready to do it."

"It's not enough." _It's not enough._

Rick pushes himself to his feet and Aaron's hand falls away as he stands. He looks defeated. "We have to stop him," Rick demands, shaking his head and running shaking hands through his hair.

"Rick, they're already gone," Aaron says. "I let them out before I came to you."

"You _what_?"

"I couldn't stop them! I _tried_ ," Aaron replies with a helpless gesture. "I tried and I couldn't. They're out there right now, waiting for Negan to come to us. He's coming _today_ , Rick, and he's going to bring Daryl and who knows what he's going to do to you both again. I _can't_ -." He stops, shaking his head, and lets out a low growl. "I can't let them back in. I had to let Spencer try."

"He's going to get himself killed," Rick snarls. "He's going to get us _all_ killed. You think Negan gives a flying fuck how many of us there are here? We don't have enough weapons or supplies to give to him and feed ourselves. We're going to starve and waste away in here and then -. And _then_ …"

He can't speak. His chest has gotten tight and his heartbeat is flying. Is this what a panic attack feels like? His vision is greying out and he can't _see_. "Oh, God," he moans, putting his head in his hands again. He forces himself not to cry.

"They might win," Aaron offers, albeit weakly. "They have the element of surprise."

"They don’t have the _guns_ ," Rick snarls. "They don't have weapons. They'll be gunned down like fuckin' -."

He stops, and takes a deep breath. "I have to go out there."

"No," Aaron says, his jaw clenching. Rick growls at him and moves to shove his way past but Aaron grabs him by the nape of his neck and forces him back to his knees. " _No_ , Rick."

Rick gasps. Aaron's Alpha Voice is gentle in comparison to Negan's but it still hits him like a sack of bricks, forcing his shoulders to sag and his chest to cave in. He whimpers, trembling at Aaron's feet. It aches like the worst kind of betrayal – now his own packmates are turning against him, forcing him to do things against his will. What will be left of him by the time it's all over?

Aaron kneels over him, his chest to Rick's back, and forces him onto his hands and knees. He shushes Rick, petting through his hair with his free hand, and Rick shivers again. His spine feels cold and weak and he wishes he could _fight,_ could tear out that part of his brain that submits to the Voice and fling it away.

"Aaron, what the _fuck_ are you doing?"

"He was going to get out," Aaron says, like Rick is a stray dog that got out of its leash. He growls and lifts his head to see Michonne striding towards them, her katana at her back. "He wants to stop Spencer."

Rick lets out a low, bitter laugh. "So everyone's in on it, huh?" he mutters as Michonne comes to a stop in front of them both.

"She was with me at the wall," Aaron explains. "No one else knows anything." Somehow, Rick doesn't think that's true. The silence seems anticipatory, wanting. Everyone might be sleeping, or they might be wide awake, waiting for Spencer to roll back through as the town hero with Negan's head on a stick.

"Rick," Michonne murmurs, kneeling down in front of him and holding his face in her hands. Without permission, Rick has started to cry, and she wipes at the trails of tears on his cheeks and kisses his forehead lightly. It makes him feel like a child.

"Please," Rick whispers, "don't touch me."

Michonne's eyes flash up and she nods to Aaron, who lets him go and stands. Rick pushes himself to his feet and glares at Aaron, before wiping his face clean of the rest of the tears. More fall when he does it. He feels so fucking empty and _weak_ , he hates it. He hates everything about himself in that moment.

"Come back to the house with me," Michonne says, low and coaxing, holding out both hands.

Rick looks to Aaron. "You gonna make me if I say 'No'?" he asks, still bitter. Aaron presses his lips together and nods, wiping his hands on his jeans, and Rick sighs, and lets Michonne take his hands and start to pull him back towards the house. Aaron falls in step behind them. "He's going to get everyone killed."

"You don't know that," Michonne says. "They had a lot of men."

But they don't understand. That isn't how stories like this go. There is no easy way out. He doesn't say so, just lets Michonne and Aaron escort him back to the house and the mess Rick made is gone, cleared away. The floor smells like bleach and it makes him gag.

He sits down heavily on the cushion-less couch and Aaron leaves. "Promise me something," Rick says to Michonne, who has taken a spot on a chair next to the couch. Probably to watch Rick and make sure he doesn't run off.

Michonne cocks her head to one side.

"If it doesn't go right…if Spencer fails. Promise me you'll protect Carl and Judith. I don't care what you do – if you take them and run, if you hide them away. I don't care, as long as they're safe."

"Rick, nothing like that is going to happen."

Rick looks at her, helpless and hopeless. "Promise me," he demands again.

Michonne sighs through her nose. "I promise," she says. "But you don't need to worry about them."

Rick closes his eyes and lays down, burying his face in his arm. Michonne sighs and sits back, apparently content to wait out the house with him until dawn breaks and they find out if their fate has been magically changed, if they can be saved by a few rogue Alphas with too much courage and not enough sense.

Rick doesn't sleep. He clenches his eyes tightly shut and tries to think of what he might have to do, or say, or save Alexandria when Negan shows up at their door with Spencer's head in his hands.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooooo this got a lil more fucked up than even I intended. More super bad Rick/Negan.  
> Also I was kinda surprised by people's reaction to Spencer. I was trying to make him more likable but y'all did NOT want that, lol. Oh well, I tried.

Rick winces when the whistles start up. It's the Saviors, Rick recognizes their call from the night in the woods. He's sitting in the middle of the road. He'd come there shortly before noon, and either Aaron and Michonne had deemed him suitably supervised to leave him there, or they are distracted elsewhere. Carl is on the wall and his eyes are wide, face pale with fear.

Tara and Olivia open the gates and the Saviors pile in. They don't have any trucks. Rick doesn't know what happened.

Negan strides to the front of the pack, his eyes burning red and they find Rick immediately. Rick bites his lower lip when he sees Spencer, dragged along behind by the back of his neck. He's bleeding heavily, half-way to walker already, and Negan comes to a stop and throws Spencer down in front of Rick.

Spencer looks up, his eyes red. He's clutching at his stomach and blood stains his lips and jaw. Rick regards him almost calmly, but his heart is hammering.

"Somethin' you wanna confess to me, Rick?"

Rick looks up, shivering when he sees how angry Negan is. The bat in his hand is dripping with fresh blood. His pack behind him are herding the few surviving Alphas in with guns pressed to their backs. There are less than five of them in total – Aaron had said they had more than a dozen. The blood of those men is on his hands now.

"I didn't know," Rick says. Negan snarls at him and Rick feels the Alpha's Voice slither down his spine, threatening to tear him apart where he sits. He can't see Daryl, and tries not to think about the fact that, if he had been with Negan, coming to Alexandria, something terrible might have happened to him.

Negan's nose wrinkles as he curls his upper lip back. "You didn't _know_ ," he spits, hand tightening on his back.

Rick shakes his head. "I was told this morning," he says. "I wanted to stop them, but I was…forced not to go."

Negan cocks his head to one side. "Who forced ya?" he asks, and steps around Spencer to stop right beside Rick. Rick looks up at him when Negan bends down and grabs his chin. There's blood on his hands. Negan's coat is unzipped, revealing a tan piece of clothing underneath. When Rick takes a breath, he smells _Daryl_. Negan's scent is so thick with it and Rick recognizes the orange letter 'A' that had been painted on Daryl's clothing that last time he saw him.

Rick whimpers. "Is Daryl okay?" he asks, because he can't stop himself asking it.

Negan smiles, this slow and predatory thing. "What if I said he wasn't?" he asks. "What if I told you I beat him to a bloody pulp after the stunt your people pulled? That this is his blood?" He swings the bat forward and stops it just shy of Rick's cheek. He presses the barbs against Rick's jaw and Rick winces when the barbs bite into his skin.

Rick presses his lips together and tries not to flinch. The way Negan is holding him, Rick can't move his face away. "I know what his blood smells like," he replies.

Negan laughs. "Of course you do," he says, and moves the bat away. He lets go of Rick's jaw and steps back. "On your feet."

Rick stands, his limbs shaky. The Alexandrians have started to cluster around them, the avid audience drawn by the terrible scene. Spencer coughs and sucks in a breath and Rick looks down at him.

"I warned him not to do anything," Rick says, looking back at Negan. "I told him you'd kill him."

Negan smiles. "I'm not gonna kill him," he says, and points the bat at Rick's chest. "You are."

Rick feels numb. At this point it feels like his body has just given up. He's no better than an extension of Negan's hand now, a dog that will attack and kill and submit on command. "Where's Daryl?" he asks again. "Please. I just…I just need to know he's okay."

Negan snarls. "I sent him back," he says. "You're not gonna _ever_ see your mate again until I'm sure I know where your loyalties lie."

Rick shivers. "Please," he whispers, and steps into Negan's space. He puts his hands on the Alpha's chest and tries to make his voice as high and sweet as possible. Negan _reeks_ of Daryl, his scent is coating the other Alpha now. Rick trembles and wonders how he's ever going to look at Daryl again, be around him again, without feeling Negan's hands on him, or hearing his voice. "You – you promised you'd let him watch, next time you fucked me." He can't think of anything else to say, and his gut twists and he feels nauseous at the thought but at least Daryl would be _here_.

"Oh, I'll let him watch," Negan says with a smile, and snaps his fingers so one of the Saviors comes forward. He hands Negan Deanna's camera. "Got this little gem last time we were here." He flicks the camera open and turns it on, focusing on Rick's face. Rick ducks his head, trying to hide away. "Watched what was on it, too. I wouldn't wanna mess with the sorry sonuvabitch that she talked to." He laughs. "But you ain't that man anymore, are ya, Rick? Just some beaten fuckin' bitch now."

Rick flinches, biting his lip. "Don't make me kill anyone," he begs.

"Sorry, sweetheart, that ain't your decision to make." Negan points the camera at Spencer and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with Alpha command. "End this little bitch's fuckin' life. Little asshole took out almost a dozen of my men. Blood for blood, Rick."

Rick is starting to shake. His hands are trembling, curling up into fists. He wants to _fight_ , but he can't. He's too weak and too fucking beaten and Negan was right – he's just a bitch now. He can't overcome Negan's Voice, he can't even fight _Aaron_ now, not without Daryl to center and strengthen him.

He goes to Spencer and kneels down in front of him and takes his head in his hands. It's clear that, even if Rick were to do nothing, Spencer would die. His wounds are too deep, his blood loss too great.

"Rick!" Tobin's the one who shouts his name, Alpha Voice ringing out. "Don't!"

Negan growls and glares at the man, and gives a nod to the Alpha behind Tobin. Rick flinches at the gunshots and then Tobin goes down like a sack of bricks.

"Every second you hesitate, I'm gonna kill another one," Negan snarls, his eyes flashing. "Don't fuckin' _think_ I won't. I am _done_ playin' nice with you, Rick. I'm done doin' a lot of things nicely." He lifts the camera. "Not end this miserable pussy's life before I have someone else put down 'cause'a you."

Rick bites his lip, and meets Spencer's eyes. The Alpha growls at him, clawing at his hands, trying to fight, and then Rick puts his hands on either side of Spencer's jaw and twists his head sharply to one side, snapping his neck. Spencer goes limp and falls into the pool of his own blood, and Rick stands.

"I need a weapon," he says. "To make sure he don't come back."

Negan growls and shuts the camera off and wraps the little loop around his wrist, coming forward, and he grabs Rick by his arm and wrenches him hard enough that Rick collides with Negan's side. Negan kisses him, his fangs ripping into Rick's lower lip and Rick whimpers, his head clouded with Daryl's scent, the blood in his mouth triggering the instinct to submit and bend to this angry Alpha, appease him any way he can.

Negan pulls back and then his hand moves to Rick's hair and he hauls him behind Negan and Negan starts to walk away. The weight of the camera presses against Rick's neck. Rick hears more gunshots and lets out a cry of alarm, but he can't look to see what happened. He knows what happened, though.

"You said you wouldn't kill them!" he says.

"No, I didn't," Negan replies, and then he's at Rick's house and he hauls him inside, kicking the door shut behind him. Rick knows Carl and Judith are in Michonne's house now and he's glad for that, glad that his children don't have to see the blood in his mouth and whatever other horrible things Negan is going to do to him.

Negan tightens his hand on his bat and swings it to point at Rick's chest. "Got any other confessions you wanna give right now?" he demands, Alpha so thick in his voice it's like a physical weight on Rick's shoulders.

Rick falls to his knees, revolted and nauseous. He swallows hard and tastes blood. "I…I burned my bed," he says, lifting his gaze. Negan cocks his head to one side. "I burned everything in that room, where you – where _we_ …"

"Now why'd you go and do somethin' like that?" Negan asks. "I was kind to you, Rick. You were the only one left with a mattress."

And Rick has to lie, because to tell Negan that he couldn't stand the scent of the Alpha on his things would only encourage his wrath. "I didn't…after you fucked me, I didn't want another Alpha's scent there," he says, and lifts his head.

Negan growls. His bat is dripping blood on the floor. Rick doesn't recognize the scent, doesn't know who it belongs to. But it doesn't belong to _Daryl_ , which means Rick honestly doesn't care. Daryl is alive. Daryl is alive and he will keep fighting and so Rick has to keep fighting – but Omegas don't fight like Alphas do. Omegas beg and plead and present themselves sweetly. They are the poison to an Alpha's knife, the silencer to their gun. They have to rely on chemicals and instinct to get what they want and to win.

So Rick has to appeal to Negan's instincts, and Negan just wants to dominate. It would be the sweetest victory, to have the legendary Omega of Alexandria submit to him completely. And Rick can…fake that. He _has_ to fake that.

"I don't want to feel this way anymore," Rick says, crawling forward and putting his hands on Negan's thighs. Negan's cock is hard, Rick can see the outline of it in his jeans. He licks his lips and presses his mouth there and feels it twitch under his lips. "I want a real Alpha. I want _one_ Alpha."

Negan grins, slow and slick. He takes the camera and turns it back on and Rick whimpers, he doesn't want Daryl to see this. But Negan will record it and he will make Daryl watch and Rick prays, prays with everything he has to a God he believes has long-abandoned all of them, that Daryl will forgive him. That Daryl will understand.

"I – I lied, before," Rick says, licking his lips and looking up at Negan. Not at the camera. He can't bear to look at the camera. "I can breed. I told Daryl I couldn't 'cause I didn't want – didn't want him to try. But I can. I wanna breed for you."

"Say it again," Negan demands, breathily. Rick knows he's got him. He's sunk the blade in deep between Negan's ribs, too sharp to feel, and soon the poison will take hold.

Rick manages a weak smile and he hopes it looks convincing. "I don't want you to wear Daryl's scent anymore," he says. "I wanna – wanna be what you carved into me. I'm _yours_. I'm Negan."

Negan growls, and he curls the arm still holding his bat around Rick's neck, thumb rubbing at his nape. Rick pushes himself to his feet and nuzzles Negan's neck, taking in a deep breath of Daryl's scent so that it can give him the strength to keep going. He feels shaky, on loose ground in the middle of rain. It would be so easy – he could rip Negan's throat out right now, and make the noises so the Saviors think he's being fucked, and then get a signal out to Michonne or Aaron or Carl and they could take the Saviors out.

But the Saviors have guns. They have guns and numbers and Rick can't lose any more people. He can't risk his children or his pack. He's sure, however many Negan brought, however many he lost, he has so much more, and Alexandria can't handle a full-on assault. He can't _think_.

"Say it again," Negan demands. "Who are you?"

"I'm Negan," Rick whispers, and then he forces himself to make a desperate, needy sound. The scent of Daryl is making him slick and he thinks about how beautiful Daryl would look coated in Negan's blood. Rick would let Daryl mount him over the bodies of the Saviors, claw at his back until the words Negan carved there was nothing but a mess of scars.

He licks at Negan's neck and tries not to flinch at the taste of the Alpha. "Please, Alpha," he begs, and drops his hands to Negan's belt. "Let me breed for you. Let me prove my loyalty."

Negan snarls, and he sets his bat down on the couch and hauls Rick up to a kiss by the hair. Rick forces himself to kiss back, to let Negan's tongue slide into his mouth, forces his hands to clutch at Negan's clothes and pull him closer as though desperate for it.

"Please," Rick says, because as soon as Negan is done, he'll be _gone_. They can't take many supplies without the trucks, which is a blessing, but it won't last long. Negan might come back the same day, or tomorrow, but Rick doesn't know that and he doesn't care about that – right now he has to keep Negan sated, calm, as controlled as Rick can make him.

Negan pulls back and yanks Rick after him. "Well, since you fucked up the bed, I guess this'll have to do," he says, and bends Rick over the couch. Rick gasps, pressing his hands against the cushions – they're still there, another 'kindness' on Negan's part.

Then Negan yanks at Rick's jeans with one hand. Without a belt on, they slide off of Rick's skinny hips easily, baring his ass. Rick hears Negan undo his belt and unbutton and unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out. The camera is still going, Rick knows it is. Negan's going to record it, and make Daryl watch – he'll make sure Daryl sees all the things Rick said, hear him beg and plead for Negan but Rick can't break character now. He has to play along, he _has_ to, and maybe Daryl will forgive him one day and maybe he won't.

Rick can't think about that right now.

Negan shoves his cock in without warning, without stretch. Rick whines, gritting his teeth at the pain as it burst up his spine, little fissures of it settled at the base of his neck. Then Negan puts a hand on his nape and _squeezes_ and Rick goes lax, forced into submission by the touch there. Negan's hand hurts where it's pressing around the bruises his belt made and Rick forces himself to whine, to arch into the pain, to need it.

Daryl was always gentle with him. Even when the mood hit them hard and they were too out of their minds, Rick too fractured to be in control and Daryl too high on the victory of a kill to see straight, he always touched Rick with reverence, moved against him like being with Rick was the same as going to church.

Negan isn't like that. He burns the temples, defiles the altar. Rick groans when Negan starts to fuck him in earnest, Rick's body trapped between him and the arm of the couch in an uncomfortable lock. The blood on the bat stains the white cushions.

"Keep talkin', Rick," Negan snarls. "Wanna make sure Daryl gets a good earful by the time I'm done with you."

Rick trembles at the mention of his mate. He wants to beg for Daryl, wants to plead to him for forgiveness and mercy. Daryl's love is passionate and jealous – even after they'd mated, Daryl had hated the scent and touch of another on Rick. Once they'd mated, Daryl had made sure that everyone knew who Rick belonged to, who he knelt for. And now Negan is demanding all of that and more and Rick has no choice but to give it to him.

"Please, Alpha – Negan, _fuck_." He winces when Negan fucks into him again, harshly, his cockhead hitting that spot inside of Rick that aches to touch, where a baby would grow if he possessed the ability to breed, still. "Please. I need you to – fuckin' _knot_ me. Please. Wanna breed for you. I'll give you strong Alphas, promise I will."

"Fuck…" Negan slows, shoving deep inside of Rick and grinding his hips against Rick's ass, teasing the swell of his knot. At least, another small mercy, Negan doesn't last long. Not as long as Daryl, who can and has spent hours teasing Rick to orgasm after orgasm before getting his knot stuck. Rick trembles, biting his lip when he feels Negan's knot grow and tie them together. There's no knife, no bite, Negan doesn't hurt him. In comparison to the first time, it _was_ almost gentle.

Not that it matters. Rick still feels sick to his stomach.

Negan shuts off the camera and sets it down, a low purr rumbling in his chest as he plasters himself over Rick and bites at his shoulders. He doesn't try to bite Rick's neck, his hand is still there and squeezing tightly, keeping Rick lax and submissive.

"No more Daryl's scent, huh?" he asks.

Rick shakes his head, trying to fight back the overwhelming, pained _howl_ that feels stuck in his chest like a ghost. He needs Daryl's scent, needs _Daryl_ , he'll go feral without his Alpha, but maybe if he plays it right, and walks the line carefully enough, he can balance the sickness with the feral need to survive, and find that spark of life, of _fight_ within himself again. Maybe he'll finally find his own fucking spine.

Negan pulls out when his knot goes down and Rick shudders, biting his lip as he feels Negan's come leak out. He stands and pulls his jeans back up and hates the feeling of Negan's come sliding down his thighs.

He doesn't wait for Negan to do it – he turns and pulls Negan close to him and kisses him. He has to play this convincingly, after all. Negan won't believe him until Rick start initiating things. He hopes that he doesn't have to do it publicly – after all, what would Alexandria think if it looked like Rick's loyalty was shifting? If it doesn't already look that way.

Negan purrs again, grinning at him, and this time when he puts his hand in Rick's hair, it's gentle, almost like he's petting the Omega. The poison has started to take effect. Rick moans and spreads his legs, sitting on the arm of the couch and letting Negan rut between them, against his stomach.

"Thank you, Alpha," he whispers against Negan's mouth as the other man pulls away. "I knew you could give me what I needed."

"Knew you'd see things my way," Negan growls. He's drunk on the victory, too blinded with satisfaction to see Rick's ploy. Rick smiles and kisses him again, pressing his chest flush to Negan's and forces a soft purr out when Negan pets through his hair one more time.

Then, Negan pulls away and fixes his clothing, and grabs the bat and camera. "Why don't you walk me out?" he says, and Rick nods and follows Negan out of the house. They walk to the gates. The bodies of the Alphas haven't moved – Rick sees someone put a bullet in Spencer's head.

Negan turns to regard Rick. "I'll be back tomorrow for the supplies," he says.

Rick forces himself to smile, and steps close to Negan and puts his mouth by Negan's ear. "I'll be waiting," he says, and hears Negan growl, his scent thick with satisfaction and victory. Rick watches the Saviors leave and then Aaron and Michonne rush to him, their eyes bright with anger.

"Did he hurt you?" Michonne demands.

"No more than usual," Rick replies. He looks at Spencer's body and the nausea hits him again. The numbness is fading away, leaving him shaky and trembling. "I could have stopped this," he says, glaring at Aaron this time. "Their blood is on your hands, not mine."

Aaron winces. "I tried to stop them -."

"You wanna know what Negan did this time?" Rick growls. "He fuckin' _filmed_ it." Aaron and Michonne's eyes widen. "He filmed it, and I had to say all these things and fuckin' _pretend_ , and he's gonna show it to Daryl. _Daryl's_ gonna… _fuck_ -."

He turns away, putting his hands through his hair. He feels dirty again, stained on the inside. How many things will he have to burn before he's run out of places to go?

And of course, he can't burn the couch now. The blood and the sweat and the come stains will have to stay there. He shudders and thinks he might be sick all over again.

"No one's going back to my house," he says, and looks back at the pair of them. "That's…that's Negan's territory now. No one is allowed in there."

He looks back at Spencer's body, and then the other Alphas. "We need to bury them."

"You need to _rest_ ," Michonne says. "And eat. We can take care of this."

" _No_ ," Rick snarls. "No. Stop treating me like I'm some…fuckin' _child_. Like I shouldn't do things for myself. Or think for myself." Anger is bubbling up in his stomach, or maybe that's still the nausea. But he can't just sit here and let Alexandria clean up his messes for him. "If anyone fuckin' _tries_ …"

"Rick, you're not thinkin' straight," Michonne says, her voice too low and reasonable. She reaches out and Rick flinches from her, growling again. "Please. Just…calm down. Please."

" _No_ ," Rick says. "No. I'm done bein' calm. If I ever was. Daryl is _gone_ , I don't even really know if he's alive, if Negan was just saying he was so I'd…fuckin' _spread_ for him. But now I've convinced him of my loyalty and we ain't gonna do jack shit to threaten that." He glares at them both again. "We tried it your way. Now we're going to do it _my_ way."

"Alright," Aaron says with a nod. "Does your way have a plan?"

"Yes," Rick says. He runs his hands through his hair again and takes a deep breath. The anger is fading away. He feels numb again. But it was _something_. Some of that _spark_ , that bared-teeth hostility that had saved his life so many times.

Someday, if he says the right things and acts the right way, Negan will get comfortable. One day, he'll come alone. One day, he'll let his guard down and do something stupid, start thinking with his dick more than his head, and that's when Rick will strike.

Aaron bites his lip, sensing he won't get any more information from Rick. "Still, you need to eat, and shower, and rest," he says. "We can handle the bodies. Please, Rick. Try and eat somethin'. Try and sleep."

Rick presses his lips together. His hands are still shaking, though he isn't sure why. He does want to shower. He isn't hungry, but he should eat, before his strength fails him. This won't work if, when the opportunity comes, Rick is too weak to take it.

"I'm going to help dig the graves," he says. "Then I'll eat." He looks at Aaron, daring him to challenge Rick, and Aaron sighs and subsides with a nod. This is good. This is compromise.

"Well, come on then," Michonne mutters, and turns to head towards the little shed where they keep the gardening tools. There are more shovels than anything else in that shed. The amount of bodies they've had to bury far outnumbers the amount of crops they grow, even in Alexandria.

At least the dead flesh will make the soil rich. Rick swallows hard, feeling nauseous and numb again. He looks down at Spencer and nudges his limp hand. Sorry son of a bitch.

"You can do this," he whispers to himself, running his trembling hands through his hair. For the first time since this all started, Rick feels somewhat…strong. He tries not to think about Daryl watching the video. He tries not to think of how Daryl will react – if he'll hate Rick, or turn his back on Rick now. Daryl must know Rick is only pretending, he has to pretend if they are to survive, but still, to be without his mate for so long, Rick doesn't know what Daryl might do when he sees it.

He can't think about it. He can't afford to show weakness. Negan is coming back tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

_And the world is such a treat when you're on easy street!_

Daryl flinches when the noise abruptly dies down. It only goes quiet when Negan is here. He lets out a quiet growl, struggling upright. He can't sleep – the room is incredibly dark but with the blaring music he hasn't managed to get a few minutes of shut-eye at a time. There was a point when that wouldn't have affected him all that much. Living in the wild had taught him to keep one eye open and sensitive to any noise, from animals, walkers, or anything else that might mean him harm.

Now he has a mate, and a family to protect. So, he's used to going it rough to save them discomfort. But Rick is just as strong and wild as he is, he'd allowed himself to feel safer in Alexandria, with the walls and the easy food and the community. He'd gotten _soft_.

The room remains silent, and he can't hear any footsteps approaching. He frowns. Where is Negan? Why has the noise gone away? Maybe he's finally gone deaf out of a sense of self-preservation. Or maybe he's insane now and can't even hear the music.

Then, he hears a soft whimper. His gut clenches and his breath catches. He _knows_ that sound. He takes in an unsteady breath and stands, his legs shaking to the point where he feels like he can barely stand. He looks up into the corner of the room where the speaker is. It's too tall to reach up and rip out – he knows, he's tried.

He hears an unsteady breath and bites his lower lip, whining. "No," he whispers, and covers his ears. It doesn't matter. Rick's voice is loud enough to hear, clear as day.

"I lied, before," Rick's voice says, breathy and high and Daryl bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. He clamps his hands over his ears but it doesn't _work_. "I can breed. I told Daryl I couldn't 'cause I didn't – didn't want him to try. But I can. I wanna breed for you."

Daryl whimpers, clenching his eyes tightly shut. He shakes his head vehemently. It's not _real_. Rick is – Rick is lying. He's good at that. He's good at playing a role, especially when it promises he gets close to his kill. That's all it is.

"Say it again." That's Negan's voice. Hatred blends with the chaotic swirl of pain in Daryl's chest and he whines.

"I don't want you to wear Daryl's scent anymore. I wanna – wanna be what you carved into me. I'm yours. I'm Negan."

The sound of Negan's satisfied growl is drowned out by Daryl's pained moan. He digs his nails through his greasy hair until he feels the sharp points of them biting into his scalp, and shakes his head vehemently like he has someone's throat in his teeth and is trying to snap their neck. He imagines it's Negan.

He doesn't know what this is. He doesn't know how Negan got Rick to say it, if he tricked him or how he recorded it but it has to be a trick – one _someone's_ part. Daryl can hear the strain in Rick's voice and knows better than to think it's genuine lust and need. Negan can't trigger a Heat in Rick. He can't breed with him – Daryl has no idea what he'd do if it turns out Rick was lying, if he could have children, if he had _Negan's_ pup.

Daryl loves his children, he'd die to defend them, but that's another situation entirely.

"Say it again," comes Negan's voice, raspy and low. "Who are you?"

"I'm Negan," Rick replies, and the needy sound he makes forces Daryl to lose the battle with his own traitorous lungs. His breath escapes him in a sob. His shoulders are shaking and tears start to well up and spill from behind his eyelids, running down his cheeks. It's not _real_. It can't be real. Rick would never -.

"Please, Alpha. Let me breed for you. Let me prove my loyalty. _Please._ "

" _Fuck_ ," Daryl whimpers, moving one hand to bite down on his knuckles as another broken sob racks his body.

"Well, since you fucked up the bed, I guess this'll have to do."

Daryl gasps, opening his eyes. Rick…what did Rick do to his bed? Daryl imagines him, kneeling on the mattress, tearing at it with his knife or his bare hands until it's nothing more than a shredded mess of stuffing and fabric. Maybe he threw it in the lake. Maybe he burned it.

His attention is caught again by the rough, pained moan Rick makes over the loudspeaker. He knows that sound, intimately. He's played it over and over in his head since the first time Negan fucked Rick while Daryl sat outside the door and did _nothing_.

"Keep talkin' Rick. Wanna make sure Daryl gets a good earful by the time I'm done with you." Daryl can hear, like it's stereo-fucking-surround-sound, Rick's rough noises and the sounds of Negan's body colliding with his mate's in something rough and ragged. Maybe he made Rick bleed, like last time. Daryl bites down on his fist until his fangs draw blood and whines.

He hears Rick moan – it doesn't sound like one of pleasure. Maybe it would be easier if it was, if Negan was a thoughtful and attentive lover. If Rick is going to have to suffer like this either way, at least it might be better if he wasn't in pain. But Daryl thanks whatever God might be listening that Negan isn't. He couldn't imagine what might happen if Rick were to _like_ what Negan does to him.

"Please, Alpha – Negan. _Fuck_. Please. I need you to fuckin' knot me. Please. Wanna breed for you. I'll give you strong Alphas, promise I will."

"Enough," Daryl snarls, putting both hands over his ears again and shaking his head. He doesn't want to hear this. He can't stand the thought of his mate begging for another Alpha's child. Rick had said he couldn't breed, he'd told Negan that – there's nothing to gain from lying in the beginning. If Rick said he couldn't have kids and he could, they'd find out soon enough one way or another. Rick hadn't gone into Heat with Daryl, not in the entire time they've known each other, no matter how much they played or Daryl had mounted Rick. Daryl hadn't minded – they had two children and he loved them both dearly even though neither of them were biologically his. Daryl had never given much thought to siring his own children – his family's bad luck was practically genetic at this point and he'd be damned if he bred a child and raised him or her with that kind of curse.

But if Rick can't breed, Negan will figure it out eventually. There's only so many times they can fuck before he becomes suspicious that Rick won't go into Heat. Rick's loyalty will be called into question. He might make Alexandria burn just for the right to breed Rick.

The audio fades out and _Easy Street_ starts to play again. Daryl puts his forehead to his knees and clenches his eyes tightly shut, his sobs lost underneath the cheery tune.

 

 

Rick forces himself to eat, both because he promised he would and because he's starting to get dizzy when he stands up too quickly, and his belt is now at its last hole before he has to start making new ones. He can't imagine he lost so much weight in the short amount of time since Negan took over Alexandria, but it's like his body has gone into complete shutdown.

He eats two slices of bread and a small bowl of chicken broth that Michonne and Carl give him, insisting that he isn't allowed to get up and move again until it's finished. He hates being treated like an invalid, like a _child_ , but the energy that had strengthened him before has all but disappeared. He's exhausted.

He had helped Aaron and Michonne dig graves for Spender, Tobin, and the other Alphas that had gone off on the fool's quest. Halfway through the first one Rick had almost been too weak to stand, but he's a determined son of a bitch when he has to be.

The next thing he does, after eating, is shave. He shaves off his beard and cuts his hair until it's just brushing the nape of his neck. He showers in water hot enough to make his skin burn and redden. He takes some antiseptic cloths from their tiny, hidden stash of medicine and wipes down the words Negan carved on his back until they sting and the scabs start to bleed and are washed away in the shower.

Then, he calls a town meeting.

 

 

"Apparently I didn't make myself clear the last time we talked about this."

Rick surveys the room, noting the absence of the Alphas that had gone with Spencer and lost their lives as a result. Rosita, in the front row, is stone-faced and angry. Eugene sits next to her, his face pale. He looks like he's going to be sick.

Aaron and Eric are sitting in the front row on the other side of the aisle in the church. They're holding hands and sitting close together and Rick swallows hard and averts his gaze. Part of him wishes that -.

No. It's too horrible to think. Eric can't suffer the way Rick is suffering now. That's not fair. _Rick_ started this. He thought he could go to war with the Saviors, he put too much trust and confidence in their numbers, their weapons, and hadn't thought that there was more to them beyond what Hilltop told them was at the outpost. He'd thought they could _win_.

Shane would have never let him get away with that. Shane was a planner, a tactical man down to the last detail. Even in video games and when he'd play fight with Rick, he studied every weakness, every strategy, he thought about every angle of attack and every possible outcome. He was always much better at it than Rick was.

His downfall had been that he was an Alpha. Alphas are blind when the right Omegas are concerned. His affection for Rick, his belief that Rick wouldn't really do anything to hurt him, had cost him his life. It would cost Negan his life as well, but Rick had to be _careful_ about it, and he had to make sure no one else in Alexandria was going to fuck it up.

Rick sighed, pulling his thoughts back to the present. He rubbed his hand over his face, marveling at the feeling of smooth skin there once again. It was strange, he had almost forgotten what it felt like. It feels like innocent, like naivete.

"We can't win against him," he says, looking back out to the room. "Spencer thought he could. And he paid the price for it."

" _You_ killed him," Rosita says.

"Of course I did," Rick replies. "I'd have killed anyone Negan told me to. That's how this _works_ , now."

"His Alpha voice is powerful," Carl says. "I've never heard anything like it."

Rick nods. "I know it seems hopeless now," he says, looking back out to the crowd. "I know it's my fault. But there's nothing we can do. He _can_ and _will_ rip us all apart if we keep testin' him like this."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're sufferin' _so_ bad," some Alpha mutters from farther back in the group. Rick clenches his jaw and tries not to make himself react. He can't give away his plan. He knew this might happen – if they see him cozying up to Negan, they might assume the worst. Aaron, Michonne, and Carl all know what's really going on, and that's all he can afford to have privy to his plan.

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?" Carl demands, his eye flashing red.

"Carl, don't," Rick says, reaching out and putting a hand on his son's shoulder.

"We all saw you, Rick," the Alpha says. His name is David, if Rick remembers correctly. Quiet kid, used to ride with Spencer and Nicholas. "You're lookin' mighty close to 'em, now. It's just what you wanted, isn't it? You get all the power and we all have to live by the rules you make."

"If you think I'm the one makin' the rules, you're in the wrong story," Rick replies, trying to keep his voice calm. "And if you think my way of doin' things is starving and killing us all, you clearly don't know me very well."

"We've heard stories," David says, standing. His eyes are red and he's baring his teeth at Rick and Rick wants to snarl right back at him. Only, he abruptly realizes he doesn't care. He doesn't give a shit what this Alpha thinks of him. He's going to save all of their lives and if they want to think he's just a loose whore who'll spread his legs for an Alpha with a powerful enough voice, then so be it.

"Yeah? Then you know what I'll do to protect my own."

"We're not yours, though, are we?" David presses. "You don't care about us. You just care about _your_ group. Spencer was right – Deanna should have never let you people in here."

"If it's any consolation, I told her the same thing," Rick says. David blinks at him and Rick steps down off the podium, walking through the aisle. "Tell me, where exactly were you when Spencer made his idiotic plan to attack Negan outside the walls?"

David's eyes are wide and he remains silent. Rick trails a hand across the dark wood of the pews, forcing his breathing to remain steady. He drops his gaze and looks at the rest of Alexandria, who are watching him with wide-eyed, anticipatory silence. Rick is reminded of the night in the woods, when Negan had trapped and cornered them and put them on their knees. They're _afraid_ of him, he realizes. Still, after everything, Rick is not the protector they look up to, but the wild attack dog kept on a very thin leash that they nervously skirt around and hope for the best.

Without Daryl, there's no one holding Rick's leash, except Negan. And Negan is just as bloodthirsty as Rick is.

He comes to a stop in front of David and regards him.

"Everything I'm doing," he says quietly, "is to protect you. To protect all of you." He looks around and sees Carl, standing at the end of the aisle. He looks worried, like Rick is going to lunge and kill David and he's geared up to try and stop him. He smiles at his son and turns back to regard David. "I'm not asking you to believe me, or even to trust me. I just want to make sure we're all in agreement that no one is going to attempt any stupid shit like Spencer did. _Promise_ me."

David swallows audibly, but before anyone can reply, Rick's head jerks up as he hears a long, loud whistle. It's only one, not a chorus like the Saviors usually do, but Rick knows it's Negan.

He looks at Aaron, Michonne, and Carl with wide eyes, before he nods and presses his lips together. "What do we have to give him?"

"Not much," Olivia says solemnly.

Rick sighs. "Let's just hope it's enough," he says, before he leaves the church and heads towards the gates.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a TRIAL lemme tell you. There's so much angst and mixed emotions I kept having to get up and walk around to chill myself out lol. So........consider yourself warned?

The gates open as Rick approaches. He steels himself, lips pressed together, and tries not to shudder as the big black truck rolls in. He can see Negan in the passenger seat, Lucille hanging out of the window. He forces himself to smile when Negan catches his eye.

The truck comes to a stop, and almost a dozen Saviors emerge from them. Not nearly as much as he usually brings, and not nearly as many vehicles. Rick feels the eyes of Alexandria on him, coming out from the church, and he walks over to Negan as Negan gets out of the truck.

Negan regards him with a raised eyebrow, that ever-present cocky grin on his face. "Did I miss somethin' good?" he asks.

Rick smiles and shakes his head. "Just makin' sure people know what's what 'round here," he says.

Negan's smile widens, almost soft now, and he puts a hand in Rick's hair and Rick forces his weak chest to purr, to lean into Negan's touch when the Alpha pulls him into a kiss. Negan isn't wearing Daryl's clothes anymore, he smells exactly like himself, and Rick wants to hiss and spit up the venom Negan puts on his tongue, but he can't. He can't afford to let Negan think he is anything but purely loyal, if his plan is to work.

When Negan parts from the kiss, he lets Rick go and turns to the gathered Saviors. "Go see what our favorite partners have for us," he says, and then nod and head towards the armory and the food stores. Rick bites his lip when he sees Olivia separate from the group to lead them there. He can't imagine they have a lot to spare, but he hopes it's enough for the Saviors and them both, so that they won't starve.

Negan regards him again and Rick ducks his head, keeping his eyes low in a gesture of submission. Negan catches his chin and forces him to lift his eyes, and he tilts Rick's head one way, then the other, and lets out a low growl.

"You shaved," he says.

Rick nods, licking his lips. "Like it better like this," he replies.

"Mm, I bet Daryl does, too. Daryl, come see."

Rick freezes, his eyes wide when he sees Simon leading Daryl by the scruff of his neck. Daryl has a thick piece of cloth wrapped around his head, keeping him mute, and his wrists are tied together. He's pack in the ugly tan sweatshirt and pants Negan had him in before. There's blood and sweat on the clothes, his hair is dark and greasy, but that's not the worst thing.

His face is unwashed, so Rick can see where tears have wiped the grime away and cleaned his skin. He's been crying. Rick tries not to whine, fights down the instinctive desire to soothe and touch his mate. Daryl's eyes meet his and Daryl looks like he did on his knees when Negan first confronted all of them. There's red in his eyes, prominent and glowing and Rick wants to sink to his knees.

Negan still has a tight hold on Rick's face and he steps to one side so Daryl can see him better. Rick wants to hide, he wants to duck behind Negan so that he can't see his mate's face, but he can't because Negan won't let him move.

"Doesn't he look so much younger now?" Negan asks with a Cheshire cat smile. He's thick with glee over the obvious pain he's causing Daryl. Negan's hand slides to Rick's nape and tightens and Rick whines. He feels more than hears Daryl's snarl. "And he cut his hair, too." Negan's sharp eyes rake over Rick's exposed neck. The bruises from his belt are still there, plain to the naked eye. "Made himself all pretty for us, didn't he?"

"For you," Rick replies, and the words taste like ash on his tongue. He raises his eyes to meet Negan's, and tries not to sound like his ribcage is caving in. "Didn't – didn't do it for him."

Daryl growls, but it sounds like he's in pain, like someone has put a great weight on his back and is slowly adding more, sending him to his knees, his stomach, until he's crushed under it. Rick closes his eyes and hopes that whatever God might be listening will make Negan merciful.

Negan laughs, and hands Simon the bat. He adjusts himself, obvious with the action, and Rick shivers. "Damn. You know what, Daryl? I hope you find a boy who makes you half as happy as Rick makes me."

Daryl can't speak, but Rick can hear his thoughts clear as day. The pure hatred in Daryl's eyes is enough to make Rick want to run, to hide away. He can't imagine how Daryl can even look at him after everything he's seen and heard Rick do.

Daryl bares his teeth, his fangs showing around the cloth in his mouth, and Rick shudders. After everything he's done, Daryl is perfectly within his rights to tear Rick apart and cast him aside. Daryl's love is jealous, and passionate, and maybe it would be easier if Rick could sever the bond and give himself over to Negan completely. Maybe it would be easier if Daryl swore himself away from Rick and left him to the Saviors, but Rick knows he won't, because Daryl loves him and Rick loves Daryl and there's no way to sever something made in fires as hot as the living Hell beating at their doors.

Negan's hand tightens on Rick's nape hard and suddenly enough to send Rick to his knees. He whimpers when his knees hit the concrete, gritting his teeth at the pain, and Negan laughs and lets go and takes the bat back from Simon. He has Rick's pistol strapped to his hip.

"Why don't we let these two talk a while?" Negan says to Simon, who looks at him for a moment before he lets Daryl go. "I wanna go explorin' a little bit. Hey!"

Rick looks up and sees Carl passing by. Carl freezes, his eye flashing red, but turns and approaches.

Negan grins and swings an arm around Carl's shoulders, forcing him to stand close. "Collateral," he says to Rick, winking at him, and then swings the bat to rest on his shoulder and walks away, Carl in tow and Simon following close behind.

Rick stays on his knees, breathing heavily, and only looks up when Daryl snarls and yanks at the cloth around his head with his bound hands. He rips it out and it hangs like a noose around his neck and he approaches Rick, his eyes red and wild and Rick flinches away, scrambling to his feet.

"Don't touch me," he says weakly. "Please, you can't -."

"Shut the fuck up," Daryl snarls, and there's enough Alpha Voice in there that Rick instinctively obeys, because he can't – Daryl is still his Alpha and he can't disobey. Daryl lunges for him and pins him against the wall, behind the truck and out of sight, and kisses him fiercely.

Rick moans, desperately drinking down the taste of Daryl's mouth, eager as anything to wipe the feeling of Negan's hands on him away. Daryl's hands are still bound and he fists his hands in Rick's shirt, white-knuckling the material.

"You lied, right?" Daryl demands, pulling back so Rick can see his eyes. "You can't breed. Y'ain't breedin' for _him_. You lied."

Rick nods frantically, clutching at Daryl's dirty, gross clothes. He stinks of sweat and death but he's still _Daryl_ and Rick's skin feels alive, his soul is vibrant. It's like the touch of Negan pulls him closer to death but Daryl's touch yanks him back towards the light, back towards his will to live and fight and _survive_.

"He showed you the video?" Rick whispers, breathless when Daryl snarls and kisses him again.

Daryl pulls back, anger like a dark shroud over his face. "There was a video?" he asks, low and wretched. Rick presses his lips together and nods. "No, he didn't show me that, but he played the fuckin' sound from it."

Rick closes his eyes. He tries to turn his face away but there's nowhere to escape to. "Daryl, I'm -."

"I know," Daryl says. "I know there's a reason you're doin' what you're doin'. I know there is, even if I don't know why."

"Why are you here?" Rick asks. Daryl's hands flatten on his chest and run up, nails dragging along the bottom of the bruise the belt left. He looks like he wants to rip Rick's skin clean from his bones and remake him brand new, as pure and clean as he had been when they'd first stepped foot into Alexandria. Rick shouldn't be letting him do this, he can't afford to have Negan smell Daryl on him. "I told him not to bring you back here."

" _Why_?" Daryl demands, sharp and biting.

"To gain his trust," Rick says. Daryl's anger is making his voice low, hard, there's a growl in his chest Rick doesn't think will ever stop. "If he thinks I'm loyal, he'll start lettin' his guard down. He'll come alone, or with fewer men, and I was gonna -."

"Negan ain't stupid," Daryl mutters darkly. "He's a cocky sonuvabitch but he ain't stupid. He's good at readin' people, controllin' people."

"Well, I can do that too," Rick replies, swallowing hard enough that his throat clicks.

Daryl kisses him again, biting his lower lip hard enough that it stings, and when he pulls back, Rick whimpers into the open, warm air. His gut aches and his heart feels like it'll fly right out of his chest and into Daryl's hands.

"Daryl, please," Rick says, reaching for him. "I'm always gonna be yours. I swear. No matter what."

Daryl's eyes slant away, down where Negan, Simon, and Carl disappeared. "You remember the night after Terminus?" he asks quietly, and Rick frowns, but nods. He remembers – Daryl chasing him in the woods once they'd gotten to a safe point. He remembers Daryl lunging for him, almost rabid because they'd survived one of their worst toils yet but that relief had turned into feral desire. "You were losin' your fuckin' mind. And so was I. One of the worst we've ever been."

Rick remembers. Daryl had made him bleed from the neck. Rick had clawed Daryl's back so badly that he's sure some of Daryl's newer scars are from that night. He swallows and looks down at his feet.

Then, Daryl huffs a strained laugh. "Who'd'a thought," he says. Rick looks up and Daryl has a small, sad smile on his face. "It wasn't a walker. Not cannibals, or even gettin' separated, or anythin' like that… Just a fucked-up psycho with a baseball bat that would'a broken us."

" _No_ ," Rick snarls, stepping forward. Daryl meets his eyes steadily. "I ain't lyin' down and givin' up. I _ain't_. I'm – I'm fightin', the only way I fuckin' know how, okay? And I can't – _please_ , Daryl, please don't give up on me now. _Please_."

"I can't…" Daryl shakes his head and sighs. "I can't keep watchin' him touch you, hearin' him fuck you, and still believe you're mine, Rick. Y'ain't mine. Not anymore."

Rick remembers how it felt, getting shot. He remembers the pain, the searing agony of his muscles and his organs separating from the force of the bullet. Even though he's not sure it's possible, he thinks he can remember the bullet fragmenting, splitting him apart worse than anything else he's felt before, or since.

Until now.

"No," he says, weaker now, tears in his eyes. Daryl's gaze is bright and he clenches his jaw. He looks away and snarls. "No. You're not allowed to fuckin' -."

"Rick, I -."

"You're not allowed to back away from this," Rick hisses. His eyes itch in a way they haven't done since he got shot. More than the faint prickle they get when he shows his gold – which he rarely does anymore anyway – but now he knows they're burning with it. Whether it's tears, Omega gold, something else, he can't be sure without seeing them, but he's frantic and desperate and this was so much easier when he didn't have to see Daryl's face, hear his voice, telling him -. "I've let him _cut me_ , you son of a bitch. I let him touch me and knot me and you've _heard_ the things I've had to say and you're not allowed to pussy out on me now."

"If I don't, we'll both die," Daryl snarls. Rick can smell the sting of tears in the air and he doesn't know who they belong to. "He'll keep cuttin' at us and clawin' us apart and starvin' us of everythin' we need until there won't be anythin' left of ya to save, Rick."

"You fuckin' coward," Rick says, wiping at his eyes. "So that's it, huh? It's all for my own _fucking_ good, that what you're sayin'?"

Daryl shakes his head. "You're not -."

"Maybe it _is_ for the best," Rick growls. He can hear Negan's laughter and knows the man is coming back. "Who knows? Maybe I _will_ breed for Negan. Like he said – just needed an Alpha strong enough, didn't I?"

Daryl's eyes flash. He bares his teeth and Rick fights back a smirk because he knows he's struck a nerve. Negan rounds the corner as Daryl snarls at him and Rick snarls right back, and Daryl lunges for him and Rick catches him and shoves him back, into the middle of the road.

"Well, damn, I miss everythin' good!" Negan says. Rick sees he still has his arm slung around Carl, his bat resting across Carl's chest in an extension of his arm. Carl bites his lower lip and Rick meets his eye, and Carl nods.

Rick and Daryl go still. Daryl's eyes are red and Rick's are gold, he knows that now. He's alight with anger but it's shifting, now, forming like iron in his spine. Daryl grits his teeth and tugs on the knot of rope around his hands, wiggling them loose enough to free them.

"Nah, Simon, let the boys fight it out," Negan says. "Oh, but Rick -." Rick freezes, turning his head to regard Negan. "Make sure you do the right thing."

Rick rolls his shoulders, tilting his head to one side until it cracks. Daryl is low to the ground, pacing like a hunter tracking a deer and Rick remembers the first time he'd met Daryl, wild in the woods, then raging over the loss of his brother. He remembers meeting Daryl's eyes for the first time, wide and red with Shane's arm around his neck. He remembers how Daryl had looked at him – angry at first, just like now, then slowly turning to affection, to loyalty, to love.

Aaron, Glenn, and Michonne are in the crowd now. Confusion and fear stink in the air and Rick snarls, low and ready for Daryl to rush him. This wasn't the plan, but it's going to have to work now.

Daryl straightens up just a little, his nostrils flaring. He's reading Rick's face, Rick can see it in the shade of his eyes. "You remember Amicalola?" he asks.

Rick smirks. He's never been to that nature park in his life. But that's not what Daryl is talking about. He hears Glenn suck in a breath and then the shadows of him and Michonne disappear from sight. Good. They remember.

"I remember your shitty attempt at chasing me there," Rick says. Negan crows with delight, clapping his free hand against his thigh.

"Seemed to suit you just fine," Daryl bites back. He feints right and Rick mirrors him, maintaining the distance between them. He's calmer now, assured. Daryl is angry but he understands what's going on, he _has_ to. He's the one who came up with Amicalola in the first place. "But I guess you'll just spread your legs for anyone, won'tcha?"

Rick bristles, and he can hear some of the gathered Alphas laugh in agreement. He's not sure who from Alexandria is watching, but with the town meeting just ending, he imagines there's quite an audience here right now. That's good, though – their energy will make it all the more genuine.

"Not just anyone," Rick says with a tight smile. Negan's scent is thick with pleasure. It stings at his nose. Rick is weak, and he hopes Glenn and Michonne are finished soon. He hasn't eaten properly or slept but then again, neither has Daryl. "You were an easy out, you knew I'd be the best you ever got outta a mate."

Daryl's eyes flash and he lunges and Rick catches him, snarling when Daryl's teeth sink into his arm. Rick kicks at his leg and sends him to his knee, twisting out of his grip and away. Daryl growls at him, blood on his teeth and Rick swallows hard. Daryl's Alpha Voice is rumbling in his throat and Rick can feel it, as strong as he always could, tight on the back of his neck. It's not time, he can't _do_ this now.

"Maybe I should'a just fucked a woman," Daryl hisses, and Rick blinks at him, frozen at the words. He'd forgotten how vicious Daryl can be when he's angry. "Least they don't just bare their necks for anyone with a big enough knot."

Rick swallows, hurt despite the words. He grits his teeth and takes a deep breath and tries to focus on keeping Daryl in his line of sight. Negan's scent is sour in his mouth and he feels sick – they're slinging just harsh words at each other and Rick hopes that they can pull back from it, when it's all said and done.

Michonne appears next to the truck. Her silhouette has an extra long jut. There's a stain of red on her jeans.

Rick snarls, and meets Daryl's eyes. "Lotta talk," he says, straightening up. "If you think you're so fuckin' _good_ for me then why don't you fuckin' prove it?"

Daryl growls and lunges for Rick, and Rick darts to one side, towards Carl, and in a quick move Carl grabs Rick's pistol and ducks out from under Negan's arm and Rick takes the pistol from his son's grip, holding it steady and pointing it at Daryl.

He hears the click of Simon cocking and aiming his gun. Michonne's shadow is gone. "Ah, Simon," Negan says, holding up a hand. He's grinning at Rick. "This is mighty entertainin', boys, I'll give ya that, but I think play time is over."

Rick nods. "You're right," he says, and turns and aims his gun at Negan's forehead.

Negan laughs. "Oh, Rick," he murmurs, shaking his head and sighing. He spreads his arms out wide on either side of him and grins, weight on one foot, hip cocked out. "Come on, you expect me to believe you're gonna shoot me after all the good times we had together?"

Rick grits his teeth and tightens his grip on his gun. "Don't you fuckin' dare," he hisses.

" _Lower_ the _gun_ ," Negan says, eyes flashing, and Rick shivers and ducks his head. Negan's Alpha Voice is powerful, there's no denying that. And Daryl isn't saying anything – why isn't Daryl _saying_ anything? Rick looks over at him frantically and Daryl's jaw is clenched, his head turned away. Betrayal and anger sting at Rick's throat. Daryl can't – he can't possibly think that -?"

"Rick, are you gonna make me count?" Negan asks, stepping forward, and Rick whimpers and he tries to fight it, he _does_ , but he can't because Daryl isn't saying anything and maybe he believes that he can't, maybe he doesn't think his Voice is strong enough anymore. Rick whines and lowers the gun and Negan grins. "Good -."

Rick squeezes the trigger. The gunshot echoes out around them, loud and cracking through the air as powerfully as if Rick had tried to ram a truck through the gates to Alexandria. Negan freezes, his eyes wide, and looks down at his stomach.

Simon lets out a curse and lifts his gun, but Michonne is there before he can shoot and swipes her sword through his neck, killing him swiftly. His body slumps to the ground and the gathered Alexandrians jump back with a mix of screams and startled cries.

Negan puts a hand to his stomach. There's blood there, leaking out from the hole in his jacket. "Rick," he growls, his Voice still so powerful, and Rick knows he technically obeyed, he didn't fight it. "That next bullet better go in your fuckin' head."

Rick gasps and his hand tightens on the gun but before he can do anything Daryl is there, catching it and prying the gun from Rick's grip.

"No," he says, when Rick keeps his grip tight, whimpering in distress. "Let go."

Rick's grip goes slack on the gun and Daryl takes it away, handing it off to Carl. Rick falls to his knees and he's level with Negan. Negan grins at him, blood welling up behind his teeth, and he starts to cough. Rick knows how much it hurts getting shot in the abdomen.

"It'll go dark soon," he says, promising, and puts a hand in Negan's hair. Negan snarls at him, baring his fangs, and his hand comes up with the bat, swinging for Rick's head. But it's weak – Negan is weak now. Rick catches it and his palm and fingers ache where the wire bites in. It pricks the skin and his palm and wrist hurts, and he shoves the bat down to the ground.

Negan grabs frantically at Rick's shirt. "Please," he says. His eyes are wide, and Rick knows what a man looks like when the fear of death starts to take over. He smiles.

"Sorry," he says. "I don't got a voice to make you do anythin'."

Then, he stands, and holds out his hand for his gun. Carl hands it to him. Rick's hand hurts when he touches it and wraps his bloody fingers around the handle. He puts the gun at Negan's forehead and pulls the trigger again.

Negan slumps, bat falling from his limp hand, and Rick sighs and puts his gun back in his belt. It feels like re-centering himself, like he's been off balance without the weight of it at his thigh.

"Should'a made him suffer," Carl says, glaring at Negan's corpse.

"Should'a done a lot of things," Rick says. He looks at Michonne and Glenn as he appears. "Got 'em all?"

Glenn nods. "Stashed their weapons," he says.

"Good," Rick replies.

"They'll bring more," Aaron says, his eyes wide.

Rick looks down at Negan, head cocked to one side. "Here's the thing with Alphas," he says, kneeling down and patting at Negan's coat. He finds the switchblade Negan used to carve the words into his back. "When they're forced into a pack that big, they start gettin' their own ideas about who should be in charge." He looks out towards the gate. "I think they'll be too busy rippin' each other apart to bother with us."

"Come on," Aaron says, turning to the rest of the Alexandrians. "We got a lot of work to go. Log the weapons, we'll need to rebuild some of the walls to make sure they're fortified."

"Tear down the house I was in," Rick says. "I don't want it standin' there anymore."

"You got it," Aaron replies. He walks past Rick and hesitates, and then puts a hand on his shoulder. "Good job, Rick," he murmurs. "You might have saved us all."

Rick manages a weak smile. Alexandria disperses, one by one, pairing off and soon the air is quiet and still, and it's just Daryl and Rick in the middle of the road. Daryl needs a shower desperately, he looks exhausted and angry and there's still red in his eyes and Rick doesn't know what he wants. He doesn't know if he wants Daryl to touch him, or wants to hide away and nurse his wounds in silence.

Finally, Daryl breaks the silence first. He always does. "You remembered Amicalola."

Rick nods. "So did Michonne and Glenn," he says. "Thank God."

"Don't thank _God_ ," Daryl spits.

Rick sighs and looks away. "We should get your stuff outta the house," he says. "Before they tear it down."

"I ain't goin' back there," Daryl says. "Not after what he did to you."

Rick nods, pressing his lips together. "What if I wanted you to?"

He still won't meet Daryl's eyes. Yes, their fight meant Negan let his guard down enough to end him, but it hadn't all been pretend. Very little of the anger, Rick senses, had been fake. From both sides.

"I'd do anythin' for you," Daryl whispers after what feels like an eternity. Rick's eyes snap to him, wide with shock. Daryl's eyes are low, like a subservient Alpha trying to appease his leader. His eyes are puffy from lack of sleep, his face dark with scruff, his hair long and covering most of it. His shoulders are low, drooped down, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides. "Anythin', even lettin' you go. If that's what you wanted."

"What I wanted," Rick says. "Or what was _best_ for me?"

Daryl flinches at the venom in Rick's words. "I let him," Daryl says. "I stood by and let him touch you."

"And I let him, too," Rick replies.

Daryl snarls, shaking his head vehemently. "Ain't the same."

"It is," Rick says. "We both had choices to make and we made them."

"No," Daryl replies. "He used his Voice on you. Ain't the same."

Rick sighs and closes his eyes, rubbing his hands through his hair and down over his face. "I don't want to _talk_ ," he says, growling the words. "I don't wanna talk about any of this. I don't wanna _hear_ his fuckin' name or talk about _Voices_ and _decisions_ and who got fucked and who let it happen and anythin' else like that!"

Daryl doesn't answer.

"I just want to sleep," Rick whispers. "I want to sleep and pretend like all of this was a bad dream."

"…We can do that," Daryl replies quietly. Rick opens his eyes to meet Daryl's sincere, gentle gaze. "And – and if you want, I'll… I'll leave you alone. Or I won't. Whatever you want."

But it's not just what Rick wants. It never has been. Daryl still hasn't tried to touch him and that space between them feels like it might as well be the Grand Canyon.

"I've been sleeping on Michonne's couch," he finally says. Daryl nods. "I'll see if she can spare a bigger room."

Daryl blinks at him, before he deflates. "Alright," he says, the single word so full of relief and hope that Rick's chest gets tight, and he manages a small smile. He holds out his hand and Daryl stares at it, before he takes it gently, lacing their fingers together in something gentle and warm.

"Come on."


	10. Chapter 10

Rick wakes to the sounds of birds singing. Outside, someone is humming the tune to an old rock song from the eighties. He can hear Aaron barking out orders to tear down his house, can hear Carl's laughter somewhere from downstairs.

He closes his eyes and turns his head against the pillow. It's soft, too soft for the hard floor he's lying on. Since Negan had taken all their mattresses and Rick had burned his, there's nothing left to sleep on except yoga mats, sleeping bags, and camping rolls. Not that he particularly minds – in fact, if he never saw a mattress again, he might be okay with that.

There's a fan whirring overhead, making the cool air brush along his face and neck like a lover. Rick shivers and tugs the blankets up tighter, to his ears, and closes his eyes. He wants to stay asleep, he wants to sink back into the black depths that he vaguely remembers from his coma, where there was no time passing, no loss, no pain. He doesn't think much would change if he were to never wake up again.

A sudden shriek jars him. It's a child, and it's not made out of fear, but it's enough to get Rick jerking upright, scrabbling at his blankets in an attempt to get downstairs and outside, to protect his people. If Negan is here and Rick isn't there to meet him -.

The blankets jerk and stop and Rick turns, finally acknowledging the other presence in his bed. The mane of dark hair is familiar and foreign all at once. Rick swallows hard, his hands shaking, and he braces his elbows on his knees and puts a hand over his mouth to stop himself whimpering.

Negan is dead. Negan is _dead_ , and Daryl is here. Even with the evidence in front of him, it doesn't feel quite real.

Rick holds his breath, his eyes on the door. If he waits long enough, nothing will have changed. He'll hear Negan's heavy footsteps in the hallway. He'll hear the Alpha's whistling call, beckoning Rick to heel like a dog. He'll open the door and the Alpha will be there, grinning wide, eyes red. He'll kiss Rick and touch him and force him to kneel and Rick will have to because otherwise Alexandria will burn.

Daryl stirs with a groan and Rick closes his eyes and covers his ears. He feels the blankets move, knows Daryl is sitting up, and he flinches when Daryl's hand gently touches his shoulder.

"Rick," Daryl murmurs, still audible despite Rick trying to block out the noise. Rick's hands fall and Daryl catches one of his wrists, fingers so gently grazing the insides of Rick's forearms.

They sit there in silence, Daryl touching him like he's starving for every single one but scared of taking more, like there's a bear trap hidden beneath the surface of the water and if he cups his hands and tries to drink out of the wrong place, he'll lose both of them. Rick is shaking, not from cold, not fear – it feels like his body is trembling because it can't do anything else. Rick has never been good at being static, at being calm, especially once the world went to shit.

His brain is cracked and split into fourteen different pieces and it feels like he's trying to reassemble a glass sculpture with hands slicked in oil. He turns his head so that he can catch Daryl's eye. Daryl looks a lot better – they'd both showered before going to sleep, and his hair is fluffy and clean. The dark circles and puffy bags under his eyes look better, even though it'll be a while before they're completely gone.

Rick turns his hand and curls his fingers around Daryl's, slow and soft. "Did they hurt you?" he asks.

Daryl presses his lips together and shakes his head. "Not physically, if that's what you mean," he replies.

Rick presses his lips together. "Did you…?" His exhale stutters, clogging his throat, and he closes his eyes and swallows harshly. "Did you kneel?"

Daryl shakes his head. "No," he says, prompting Rick to open his eyes again.

Rick huffs, his smile strained and small, and pulls his hand away from Daryl's touch. "You're stronger than I am, then."

"Don't," Daryl whispers. "Please."

"Please," Rick repeats. "I think I've said that more in the past few days than I ever have in my life." He shakes his head and looks back at Daryl. "Didn't help."

Daryl's eyes drop to Rick's hands. His fingers twitch. Rick can tell how desperately he wants to reach out and touch Rick again. And Rick wants him to. He wants Daryl to touch him, and kiss him, and mount him and he wants it to be like the whole ordeal never happened but Daryl can't pretend it never happened and Rick will be able to taste it, feel it when his mate touches him. Daryl knows what Rick had to do, had to say, and had to suffer in his absence but Rick's know what Daryl had to go through. Maybe it'll make them even – but it's not a competition of who suffered more, who was stronger, who won. They're not fighting each other.

But Rick has been out in the wild too long, been away from his mate too long. He doesn't know how to do anything else but fight or submit.

He licks his lips and looks away. It's a surreal feeling, to wake up and know that nothing is going wrong at that precise moment. Rick thinks he would adjust better to a sudden morning when all the walkers had disappeared. It feels less real than when he woke up from his coma, this day. He tilts his head and listens to the birds.

"Rick," Daryl says after a moment, and Rick gives a soft hum in answer. "I'm so sorry."

Rick turns to look at him. "Sorry for what?" he asks, frowning.

"If I had just…just fuckin' let Dwight _go_ ," Daryl growls, his eyes flashing red. He's staring at his own hands now, his fingers dug tight to his palms. "Or better yet, killed him in the first place. Abraham would still be alive, they would't'a caught me and Glenn and Rosita. I could'a – I could'a been better. Fought 'im. I could have made sure you didn't…"

Rick sighs, nodding. "I can't forgive you," he says, and Daryl finally raises his eyes. "None of that was your fault. We'd'a still been out there for Maggie, one way or the other. We'd'a still taken out that outpost for the Hilltop. That whole night…" He shudders, biting his lower lip, and shakes his head and meets Daryl's eyes. "None of that was your fault. Might have even been a blessing."

Daryl lets out a harsh growl, his eyes flashing. "A _blessin_ '?"

Rick nods, pressing his lips together. "Negan is dead," he says. It feels hollow and strange to say it out loud. "How's your shoulder?"

"It's fine."

"Bullshit."

"I bit you," Daryl says, nodding to the bloody stain in the shape of his teeth, on Rick's arm. It had kept bleeding through his shirt after the shower. Rick looks down at it. "And I -. Fuck, Rick, I said shitty things to ya."

"You knew what you were doing," Rick says, looking up and towards the door. "You remembered Amicalola."

"Not at first," Daryl replies darkly. "I was -."

"I know."

"Damn it, Rick, let me say it!"

"No," Rick bites out, turning to glare at Daryl. "It doesn't matter, okay? It doesn't matter what you thought you were gonna say to try and get me to do whatever you thought I needed to do. It doesn't matter what I was tryin' to plan, because things change and we adapt or we die, isn't that right?"

Daryl swallows hard enough that his throat clicks.

"We adapted," Rick says, and finally loses the battle with himself and reaches out and touches Daryl's cheek. Daryl's shoulders slump and it looks like he collapses in on himself, like the strings holding him up have been abruptly severed, as soon as Rick touched him. "You did what you had to, I did what I had to, and we won."

Daryl takes his hand and presses Rick's knuckles to his mouth, kissing them gently. His hair is hiding most of his face but then he sits up and pushes it out of the way and squeezes Rick's fingers. "Yeah," he rasps. "We won."

 

 

Rick goes to his house and meets Aaron and Glenn, standing outside it. Glenn smiles at him and gestures to a car parked near the house. "We put yours and Daryl's stuff in there," he says.

"Thanks," Rick replies. "Didn't I tell you to go to Hilltop with Maggie?"

Glenn shrugs. "And I bet you're glad I didn't."

"Yeah." He watches as some of the surviving Alphas start to rig up a support to start tearing down the walls. He remembers Reg telling him that a lot of the people living in Alexandria here had helped to build the complex, so he's not worried too much about people getting hurt or not knowing what they're doing.

After a moment, Rick feels eyes on the back of his neck and he goes tense. It's an Alpha, an Alpha is staring at him and he feels it like nails against his nape. Omegas have always been sensitive to the stare of an Alpha, especially at times of high stress.

He looks over his shoulder and sees Daryl sitting on Michonne's porch, and forces himself to relax once he realizes that it was Daryl he was sensing, not…not anyone else. He lifts his hand in a little wave that Daryl mirrors after a second of hesitation.

Aaron lets out a low sound, drawing his attention back. "There were some guns and supplies in the Savior's truck," he tells Rick, who nods, his eyes back on the house. "Olivia was logging them all, and we think we have a decent amount when and if they come back for round two."

Rick nods again, putting his hands on his hips. The weight of his pistol sits heavily against his thigh and it feels grounding, like weights in his shoes to make sure he doesn't float away. "Good," he says. "But I really don't think we'll need to worry too much about it."

"I can get a message to Hilltop," Glenn says. "Make sure they know what happened."

"Tell them they're welcome here, if they want," Rick says, meeting Glenn's eye. "I know Gregory was pretty loyal to the Saviors. If they want to live somewhere, if they want to join us here, they can. I trust your judgement."

Glenn smiles. His eyes flash to Daryl, and then he approaches Rick and claps a hand on his bicep. "We're gonna be okay," he says, and Rick smiles.

"I know," he murmurs, and Glenn squeezes his arm and walks away, towards the gate where the cars are, leaving Aaron and Rick alone in the street. Rick can still feel Daryl's eyes on him, it's unsettling to feel the Alpha staring at him so boldly. He's torn; if Negan sees Daryl watching, Negan will kill him. Rick should protect him. Rick should hide himself from sight. But Negan's dead, and Daryl has the only right left to keep his eyes on Rick.

Aaron clears his throat and Rick lifts his eyes. "You both need some time alone," he says, his voice quiet and gentle like he's trying to persuade a child to go to bed. Rick doesn't have the energy to be offended anymore. "Whenever Eric and I get separated for more than a day, he loses my scent, and I don't feel right until he smells like me again."

"I don't smell like Daryl," Rick murmurs. "I smell like Negan. I… _feel_ like he's there. Like I'll close my eyes for a second too long and he'll -."

"You killed him, Rick," Aaron says. "Not me. Not Daryl. Not Carl. _You_ did it. You said you had a plan and your plan worked and no one saw it comin'."

Rick presses his lips together. But that hadn't been his plan. His plan would have taken longer. People could have died – Daryl's anger and his jealousy had forced Rick to act and luckily his people had known what to do, but it could have all gone so wrong so fast.

He clenches his fists up tight around his gun belt to stop them from shaking. Daryl is still staring at him – he can feel it.

"Is there a bag of clothes easy to grab?" he asks, and Aaron nods and gestures to the car by the house. "Thanks."

He walks over to the car. A few Alphas are gathered at the front of the driveway and stop their conversation when they see him approach. David is there, the Alpha that had challenged Rick during the town meeting before Negan's last visit. His expression is solemn and he gives Rick a respectful nod when Rick meets their eyes.

"Mornin'," one of the others says. Rick nods towards him and doesn't reply. He opens the back of the car and grabs a laundry bag, opening it and seeing some of Daryl's shirts and jeans, as well as a pair of his boots. He shoulders the bag with a grunt and closes the door.

"You need help with that?" David asks, coming towards him and offering his hand.

Rick regards him, and hopes that his expression is enough to let the Alpha know just how fucking ridiculous it is to offer to help him with a sack of clothes, after everything that's happened. David backs away with a guilty expression and Rick turns towards Michonne's house.

Daryl doesn't offer to help him, just takes the sack of clothes when Rick hands it to him with a nod of thanks. They've never had to say much to get their point across.

Daryl licks his lips, hesitant on the threshold to the house, and Rick meets his gaze steadily. Being afraid is different than hesitating. Hesitation implies thought, like there's a process of pros and cons and fear is in the gut, instinctual, something that forces a reaction at the time and then can be thought about later.

Daryl meets his eyes and Rick nods.

Like that was all Daryl needed, he drops the sack of clothes immediately and closes the distance between them on the porch. Despite his urgency, his hands are gentle on Rick's flanks and the back of his neck, and he pulls Rick close to him. Their mouths meet, thirsty, desperate, and Rick shivers when he takes a deep breath and all he smells is _Daryl_.

His mate, his Alpha – _Daryl_.

Daryl's hand slides to his hair, fisting tightly, and he growls against Rick's mouth, his thumb brushing up and down Rick's side through his clothes. Rick's hands slide to Daryl's shoulders, his nails digging in, and he can feel Daryl's rumbling purr where their chests are pressed together.

They break apart for air and Daryl buries his face in Rick's shoulder and Rick cups the back of his neck, his other arm slung across his shoulders and Daryl hugs him tightly under the arms. Rick ducks his head and nuzzles the side of Daryl's neck and closes his eyes when he feels his mate shudder.

"Stay by my side," he says, and feels Daryl nod, his fingers digging in more tightly to Rick's back. Rick closes his eyes and holds him close for a moment more, before he releases Daryl and rests their foreheads together. "There's a lot of work left to do."

"I'm here," Daryl replies, and Rick smiles because for the first time in what feels like a thousand years, that's actually true. Daryl's fingers wrap around Rick's arm and squeeze.

 

 

Rick and Daryl move into the house that used to belong to Deanna, Reg, Spencer, and Nicolas. It's centrally located and, Rick knows, unofficially marks the dwelling of the leader of Alexandria. Which he is, finally, once again. Sometime in the near future, he's sure he will give up that title.

If the last ordeal has taught him anything, it's that Omegas are not fit to lead. Then again, neither are Alphas. He thinks, when Maggie and Glenn return, he will offer her the position. Then Michonne, if Maggie declines. She's much better suited to leadership than Rick ever will be, and women aren't nearly as prey to Alpha Voices, instincts, and the same kind of terrible, primal shit that had gotten them so quickly up shit's creek in the first place.

They put Negan's body deep in the ground where not even God himself could find it, and Rick cuts Lucille in half down to mark the place, one piece of her at each end. No one says anything during the digging, the burial, or the walk back to Alexandria.

Daryl stays by his side, as he'd promised to do, to Rick's right and one step behind like he always has been. When they return, Carl greets him with a smile that Rick returns, taking Judith from his arms and planting a kiss to her hair.

"We need to call a town meeting," he says to Daryl, who nods, his eyes down.

"I'll let Aaron know," Daryl replies, and walks to the wall where Aaron is keeping watch. He remains in Rick's line of sight the entire way.

"Dad," Carl says after a moment, drawing Rick's attention. Carl looks up at him, his eye bright in the shade of Rick's old hat. Carl touches his arm gently. "How are you feelin'?"

Rick blinks at him, and presses his lips together and looks away. He can't lie or pretend, not when his son was the one who saw the worst of it. "Better," he finally says, lowly.

"We can handle things around here, if you need some time alone," Carl says.

"Aaron suggested the same thing," Rick replies. "Time alone." He shakes his head. "I don't need it."

"…Maybe Daryl does," Carl murmurs, and when Rick looks down, Carl's eyes are on the Alpha. Carl lets go of Rick and takes Judith from him and Rick can't say anything else because Daryl is coming back, his head ducked and hair hiding his face.

"Aaron's gonna spread the word," he says.

Rick nods.                            

"What now?" Daryl asks, and Rick pauses for a moment, considering his mate. Daryl's gaze is somewhere on Rick's chest, not quite meeting his eyes but not ducking down to show subservience either. Since Rick asked him to stay close, Daryl hasn't strayed from Rick's side once. Not even to pee, if Rick thinks about it. Daryl has been his shadow the entire day, like he's starved for Rick's attention and presence.

Maybe Rick doesn't need the time alone, but Daryl does. Maybe Rick can swallow down the panic clawing at his chest and the dread coiling at the back of his neck for long enough to let his mate placate him, settle him, calm him.

Because, yeah, Rick's man enough to admit that the only reason he's been able to keep even remotely level-headed is because he's been out all day, surrounded by people who are smiling and happy and it reminds him that Negan is dead, that this is all real. The weight of Negan in his arms was real. The feeling of splitting his bat in two and plunging the halves into the ground was real.

But the way Daryl is looking at him is real too. The way Daryl so clearly wants to reach out and touch him and the way Daryl had felt, desperately kissing him on the porch – that was real, too. And Rick can't accept one reality and ignore the other.

Daryl hadn't been beaten, or forced to be mounted by an Alpha that wasn't his mate, or been threatened and forced to kill his people, but that didn't mean he hadn't suffered, hadn't been tortured, hadn't been driven close to madness by Negan's mind games. He'd felt the separation anxiety, too, he'd had to listen to his mate be violated over and over again and know he was too helpless to stop it. He'd had to starve, and been denied sleep, and forced into all kinds of cruelties Rick didn't want to imagine.

"Rick?" Daryl asks when Rick remains silent, unsure, his eyes flashing up to meet Rick's for a brief moment.

Rick reaches out, the tips of his fingers brushing Daryl's hair, and pushes it back from his face, across his forehead. Daryl goes still, pressing his lips together.

"You know I love you, right?" Rick asks.

Daryl shivers, looking down again. He nods.

Rick turns to regard Carl. "You and Aaron can lead the meeting," he says. Carl blinks at him. "Aaron knows what I want put in place. Glenn too, if he hasn't left already. I trust you guys to handle things for a little while."

Carl smiles. "Sure thing, Dad."

"Rick?" Daryl asks, frowning in confusion when Carl leaves them alone. Rick reaches out and brushes his fingers along the back of Daryl's hand, lacing their fingers together loosely.

He steps closer so that no one else can hear them, even if anyone was clueless enough to pass them by. "You remember how we used to sit on the prison roof, and you'd try and get me to learn the stars and constellations and shit?" Daryl huffs, smiling, and nods. "We should go do that."

"It's broad daylight," Daryl replies, but he doesn't resist when Rick starts leading him back towards Michonne's house.

"Then you can show me how shingles work," Rick says, earning another soft laugh from the Alpha. "I don't care what we're doing," he adds, turning when he breaches the porch, and takes both of Daryl's hands in his. "As long as I'm with you."

Daryl's eyes shine, so much open adoration on his face, Rick imagines this is what God must have felt like when mankind was brand new. He lets go of one of Daryl's hands and pulls him into a kiss, gentle and chaste.

"I'll follow you anywhere," Daryl whispers against his lips, and Rick knows he means it.

"I know," Rick replies, and lets out a quiet purr that rumbles in his throat. He can't remember the last time he purred out of genuine contentment, but it's bubbling in his chest and vibrating in his lungs and he thinks he might overflow with joy. "Let's start with the roof for now."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we reach the end. Thanks to everyone who stuck with me through the trials, I hope you've enjoyed the ride!

Michonne's roof is one of the best places in Alexandria to sit and watch the world from. It gives a good view of the gates and the road beyond so they can see anyone who might be driving in, and the side wall stretches back far enough that they can see where it ends from this height. The lake shines in the sunlight, the white steeple of the church rises up like a monument to the trials they've suffered and are still standing through.

The roof slants at the top and then there's a flat part where the window of the upper level bedroom sits. It's wide enough for both Rick and Daryl if they curl up close together and put their backs to the slope of the roof.

Rick sighs, letting the warmth and solidity of Daryl's body press against his side. Daryl is on his right; the Alpha is upwind of him so he can smell his mate with every breath without having to press his nose against Daryl's clothes or his skin.

They had watched Alexandria file in for the town meeting, Aaron and Carl bringing up the rear and shutting the doors behind them once everyone was inside. Rosita is on the wall, keeping watch. Rick sighs again and Daryl tilts his head, not meeting his gaze but letting him know he's listening.

"I know everyone who's missing," Rick says.

Daryl clears his throat. "Ain't your fault some Alphas decided to play 'Who has the bigger knot'." Rick looks at him and Daryl bites his lower lip, his eyes down. "Michonne told me what happened. With Spencer."

Rick nods. "She tell you everythin'?" he asks.

"Negan made you kill him."

"Aaron stopped me from -." Rick shakes his head and looks back out towards the lake. He can see the dead, black pile of his mattress and Daryl's clothes and everything else that was in the room when Negan first fucked him. He wonders if anyone noticed the blood and stains on his couch when they were clearing his house. He wonders if they're letting the thing get crushed as they tear the house down.

"Rick," Daryl starts, his voice catching on Rick's name. "You – you didn't let me say some stuff before. But I gotta. And you gotta let me, okay?" He's not using his Voice, he's not ordering Rick to listen and obey, but Rick's chest leaps all the same because Daryl sounds so unsure, so scared. Rick has no idea what he must be scared of – Daryl is the one who keeps saying they've won, he's the one who aches to touch Rick and the one who seems so assured and calm all the time.

Rick swallows, his eyes on his hands, resting between his knees. His feet dangle off the edge of the roof and he wonders how much longer he might have gone on before he found himself up here, on his own, with a bite mark on his neck and nothing left to lose.

Of course, he wouldn't. He couldn't afford to let Negan take that from him, as well. But he wonders.

"Go on," he says, his voice little more than a rasp. He winces and rubs at his throat. The marks of Negan's belt and hand have faded but his throat is still incredibly sore and sometimes it aches when he swallows.

"I said some really shitty things to ya, yesterday," Daryl starts, and Rick presses his lips together and forces himself not to brush it off like he did before. It's something that Daryl feels like he needs to say, and Rick knows how cruel and vicious Daryl can be when he's angry, how the things he says are always to get a reaction, whether it's intentional or not. He knows Daryl loves him, and the talk about fucking a woman or how Rick is just an easy Omega were just distractions – he knows that. But maybe Daryl doesn't know he knows.

So, he nods instead. "So did I," he replies. "I didn't mean any of it. You know that, right? It was just…just for show."

"No it wasn't," Daryl says, shaking his head. "Not at first."

"Why did you say it, then?" Rick can't accept it – he can't accept a reality where Daryl truly believed that they would break, that Negan would be able to pull them apart. His eyes are still on his hands and he's holding his fingers together tight enough the knuckles are turning white. "Did you think I was just, what, waitin' for your fuckin' _blessing_ for Negan?"

"No," Daryl replies, his voice little more than a snarl.

"Then _why_?"

"Because I could see what it was doin' to you," Daryl says. "I never – fuck, I never saw it. I didn't see him…do that, but I heard it. Over and over and over again, in my head. He played that fuckin' recordin' over and over and -." He lets out an unsteady breath, his fangs bared, and runs his hands through his hair. "And if you could breed, I couldn't – I wouldn't -.

He stops, taking a deep breath, and tilts his head back. There are tears in his eyes – Rick can see their shine.

"I wasn't gonna be the one that broke ya," he finally says. "I told Negan he'd lose. I told him you weren't gonna play along forever. He didn't believe me."

Rick presses his lips together, sucking in a deep lungful of the cold air through his nose. "I don't blame you for any of it," he says. "Not for Dwight. Not for Negan. Not for anyone we lost. You're a damn sight stronger than I was."

Daryl shakes his head vehemently. "You know what?" he murmurs. "That's what really fuckin' _bothers_ me."

Rick frowns. "What?"

"Negan didn't use his Voice on me," Daryl says. "Never had to. But he couldn't even make you _say_ nothin' without forcin' ya to, playin' on the fact that you're an Omega." He shakes his head again. "I didn't fight 'im. All bark, no fuckin' bite. I let him -."

"I let him, too," Rick says, because he knows what Daryl is going to say. "I could have done a lot of it very differently, but I didn't. Because I was scared. Because he had you. Because'a the way I'm wired. It doesn't matter." He finally forces his hands to unlock and rests one gently on Daryl's thigh. "It doesn't matter."

"I feel like it should," Daryl whispers. He's tense and warm under Rick's hand, practically vibrating with energy. "Shit like this _should_ matter."

Rick manages a weak smile, and turns his head to rub his forehead against Daryl's shoulder. Daryl meets him immediately, instinctively, and even though it's been more than two weeks since Daryl last touched him with any sense of permanency, Rick feels like it's been less than a minute. Like all the grief, the suffering, the pain is melted away when he feels Daryl's lips press against his hair.

But it doesn't stick. Rick pulls back and the panic follows. It's too quiet with everyone in the meeting. The air is too still, anticipatory and waiting like the night when Spencer went out to face Negan. Where is everyone? Negan will be here soon and he'll want supplies but they don't have enough and -.

"Daryl," Rick whispers, squeezing Daryl's thigh tightly. Daryl lets out a quiet, soothing purr, petting a hand through his hair gently.

Rick's breathing is shallow and quiet, his shoulders curled in, his eyes restlessly tracing the empty streets like he's trying to find the answer to life in the way they curl and spread around the houses. Daryl watches him for another moment, his eyes heavy on Rick's neck, and then he stands.

"Come here," he says, and holds out his hand. Rick looks up at him, wincing as Daryl's shape goes black in front of the sun. He's reminded of having to kneel for Negan, his gaze forced upwards, and he swallows harshly and grabs Daryl's hand, scrabbling to his feet.

Daryl's big hand flattens on Rick's nape and Rick's eyes sharpen and the silhouette fades away, fills in with Daryl's features, the dark shadow of his hair and his pretty storm cloud eyes and the thin scruff covering most of his jaw. Rick sucks in a deep, shuddery breath, and lets it out in a whine.

"Let go of me," he says, and Daryl immediately does, releasing Rick's neck and his arm and taking a small step back where the roof allows. Rick is trembling, his fingers flexing by his sides, and he rubs his hands over his face. " _Fuck_."

He lowers his hands, because when he can't see Daryl it just makes the panic harden in his chest, grow spines and pulse against his ribs and his lungs until they crack and puncture. He reaches for Daryl and hauls him close by his shirt and claims his mouth in a kiss. Daryl's hands flatten lightly on his flanks, knowing not to grab too hard, and he kisses Rick back. It's passionate and deep and Daryl growls when Rick licks into his mouth, catches his lip between his teeth.

Rick pulls back and Daryl chases him, claiming another before he can stop himself. His fangs press gently on Rick's lower lip but he doesn't bite down, doesn't shed blood like Negan did. Rick shivers, reminded how Daryl is always so gentle with him, touches him with such care and open adoration. Rick knows his mate is capable of great violence, the Alpha strain in him to conquer just as present as it is in the worst of his breed, but he has never treated Rick, in the soft moments like this, with anything other than complete worship. Like Rick is a God and Daryl is simply there to give praise at the temple.

They break apart again and Rick tenses when Daryl growls. There's no red in his eyes but the sound sends a ricochet of memory down his spine and he pulls back, forcing Daryl to let go of him again.

Daryl notices, his fingers curling as his arms drop back to his sides. "I still feel him everywhere," Rick whispers before Daryl can say anything. "I put the fuckin' bullet in his head and I still feel like…like nothin' changed."

"He used my scent," Daryl replies, equally soft. "I get it."

Rick shakes his head. "Not what I meant. Was never the same." Even when his body had taken in Daryl's scent, his head, his eyes reminded him what was real. The only thing it had done was help Rick get slick when he needed to, and even then, it had been a small favor. Now, with Daryl in front of him, clean and purely his own scent, Rick wonders how he could have ever accepted anything else.

Daryl licks his lips. "I can't –. I can't not see you," he says, and Rick nods because he completely understands. "I can give you some space if…"

"I don't want that," Rick replies. He looks down at the empty streets, the pristine-looking houses. There's a mark in a flowerbed where a Savior truck got parked. There's some char marks and bloodstains on the ground from fire and guns. His house stands like the claw of a slaughtered beast, curled up in a final attempt at the last blow but ultimately overcome. "I need you next to me. You being here reminds me that it's real."

Daryl smiles. It's a small, sad thing.

Rick matches it with one of his own, before he turns and walks across the roof to where the skylight is that gives access to the attic. He hears Daryl following along behind and opens the skylight, dropping down to a crouch once he's in the attic.

The air is warm and dark in here and he waits as Daryl follows, grunting with exertion, and closes the light behind him. The sun arcs down, illuminating the flat floor and the slanting roof. Since these homes were all new when the end of the world began, there's no clutter up here. Nothing to show that people have made them home and living here; just a thin layer of dust to mark the passage of time.

Rick goes still. He can feel Daryl's eyes on his back and it's making him shake, because he knows it's Daryl but it just feels like an Alpha and his primitive brain is screaming at him to duck and to hide. His scent is sour with anxiety and he knows Daryl can smell it.

He hears Daryl purr, forcing the sound to be loud enough that Rick can hear it as far apart as they are. "S'just me," Daryl whispers.

Rick closes his eyes and nods, biting his lower lip hard, fingers curling into the front of his shirt and tugging the material away from his belly to let air rush in, cooling him down. "Just you," he echoes.

"I'm not gonna touch you 'til you ask me to," comes Daryl's voice, low.

"'Cause you think I'll say 'No'?" Rick says, turning his head so he can see Daryl over his shoulder. He doesn't move further, but keeps his back turned. It's a vulnerable stance, putting his back to an Alpha, but it's better than exposing his belly and his neck.

Daryl lets out a quiet, weak noise. "I don't wanna scare you," he replies. Rick blinks, turning to face him fully. "I don't –. That first time he brought me, I tried to touch you and you flinched and I thought I was gonna fuckin' _die_. I can't do that again."

Rick swallows hard, his throat aching. "I'm sorry," he says. "You know why I had to, right?"

Daryl nods. "Didn't make it any easier." His eyes are down, hidden behind his hair. "So I just…you gotta know. I ain't doin' anythin' without your say-so."

"I don't want a puppet," Rick says.

Daryl takes a step forward and Rick goes tense but doesn't flinch back. He remembers the look on Daryl's face, the anger in his reddened eyes when Rick had forced his hands away, but he hadn't been able to think about it past the fact that he had denied his mate the right to his body and Daryl deserved to be angry about that.

It hadn't occurred to him that it would hurt Daryl like pain, to see him react that way.

Daryl steps past him, doesn't let any part of their bodies touch, and goes to the door leading to the top floor. "Come on," he says, and Rick huffs when he realizes that this way, Daryl isn't behind him, isn't following or chasing him, and Rick won't feel eyes on him like he does when Daryl is behind him. It takes the pressure off behind his eyes and he follows Daryl down the ladder and helps him fold it up and close the door to the attic.

When they leave Michonne's house, the doors to the church are open and people are leaving the meeting. Most of them are talking animatedly amongst themselves, they seem excited for something, and Rick frowns, pushing past the crowds to where he can see Carl, Aaron, Eric, and Gabriel standing and speaking with Michonne on the church steps.

"What's going on?" he asks.

Carl smiles. "The Saviors have been goin' crazy over their walkies," he says, holding one up. Right now it's buzzing faintly with static. "They know Negan's dead."

Rick's eyes widen. "And?"

"And they've been tearing each other apart ever since," Michonne says, her smile wide. Even as she speaks, the static breaks on the walkie-talkie and Rick hears an Alpha yelling for backup as he's overrun by 'Regina's people.

"The King is dead," Rick whispers. The sound of gunshots and screaming come from the walkie before Carl turns it off and hooks the handle into his belt. "Without an Alpha powerful enough to make all of them kneel, they'll break off and kill each other, or run."

"I know the faces of the workers," Daryl says. "Decent people, most of 'em."

Rick turns to regard him. "You think they might come here?"

"Where would you go, if there was nowhere else?"

Daryl holds his gaze steadily, not challenging. It was never a challenge with Daryl. Since the beginning, even when Daryl found out Rick was an Omega – not that Rick tried to hide it ever – he had never had a problem following Rick's lead. Rick doesn't feel threatened when Daryl argues with him, or starts to posture and growl on the rare occasions he got riled up.

He knows he's in charge, until he says otherwise. And he knows Daryl won't fight him, even at a time like this when Rick is arguably less than stable and they're talking about the lives of their enemies.

"None of the soldiers," Rick says, looking at the others to make sure he's understood. "I don't care what they say, if they claim Negan made 'em, or whatever else. I don't want them here."

"We know," Aaron says. "I told everyone else what had happened. They know Daryl's here, they know Negan's dead and Hilltop might be joining us."

Rick nods. "Good," he says. "I guess that's everything then, isn't it?"

"Until something else comes up," Michonne says.

Rick nods, and Daryl turns and starts to walk towards the house they've claimed now, where Reg and Deanna used to live. Rick stays slightly behind him so that he doesn't feel followed. "We should check out the Sanctuary when the dust clears," Daryl says.

Rick frowns. "Why?"

"They took our guns, our food. They took Hilltop's doctor and medicine. They can't defend it all, especially after they're done slaughterin' each other. We should take it back."

Rick takes in a shaky breath, following Daryl through the front door of the house. Everything here is furnished as it was when Spencer died. Rick remembers Deanna's library, when she interviewed them all one by one as they arrived here. He remembers the chessboard on her table. He remembers the setup of her dining room, open and colored green and gold.

There are some floorboards by the window where Spencer hid guns and some whiskey. Some of the books have been torn off the shelves and flung to the other side of the room. Upstairs, he doesn't know what the bedrooms look like but he imagines they resemble everyone else's. Barren and empty.

"I don't know if I can stand to set foot near that place," he admits. He's never seen it, but he thinks he'll be able to feel Negan in the walls, smell him everywhere he goes. It'll be settled in the dust and grouted between the tiles and slick on the floor.

Daryl nods, accepting that. "You don't have to," he replies. "Just an idea."

Rick smiles. Daryl knows Rick wouldn't force anyone else into potential danger like that, and he won't let Daryl go alone. "When the panic dies down," he says. Daryl nods again, pressing his lips together.

They stand like that, static in the way people are when they've just stepped on a landmine. Daryl is trying so hard to make it look like he isn't aware of Rick's every breath, every step. Like he's not burning on the inside with the need to touch his mate and soak each other in their scents until every last trace of the last ordeal has been completely washed from their skin.

But it can't be. Rick has bruises on his neck and his hips. He has words carved into his back. Daryl wears the exhaustion and the guilt on his face and shoulders like a cloak.

Rick sighs and rubs a hand over his mouth. "You remind me of Shane right now," he says. Daryl's eyes flash up and he frowns. Rick jerks his head towards the comfortable couch in Deanna's study and Daryl goes, sitting down on one side. Rick sits on the other, barely more than an inch of air between them.

"You haven't talked about Shane in years," Daryl whispers.

Rick nods. "There was this one time, way back when we were still in the academy. Or maybe just graduated. Not sure." He braces his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands over his mouth, down his jaw, until they sit under his chin and he can cradle his head there. "Don't remember. Anyway, back in those days it was still kind of new for Omegas to be out on calls and not, like, doing the paperwork or desk jobs, dispatch and stuff like that."

Daryl nods.

"I'd been dating Lori for a while, but we weren't mated yet. And Shane and I get this call. Nothin' worth writin' home about. Domestic disturbance, an Alpha had tried to visit his son outside of his hours or somethin' like that, the mom decided to make the argument public."

Daryl presses his lips together and makes a soft sound of encouragement.

"I don't remember what the mom looked like. I don't remember their names. But I remember the look in that Alpha's eyes. I'd been through training, you know, I knew I could take on anyone pretty much up to Shane's weight class, whatever. I wasn't afraid of him, but he had the most unsettling…feel. I don't know how to describe it. He smelled sick, like he was so _thick_ with Alpha. When I smelled it I almost threw up right outside the car."

He can feels Daryl's eyes on him, the Alpha's gaze wide-eyed and shocked. "We managed to get the guy calmed down enough to make him walk away. Shane gave the lady the number to the protective services for women and children so that if it happened again, she'd get more specialized responders."

Rick sighs, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. "I didn't think it affected me that bad. Once I got back in the car I felt better, I could smell Shane and I knew I hadn't been in any trouble. I _knew_ that, but I guess I looked…like shit. Shane hadn't played with me any since I started dating Lori, but he played with me then, between there and the station."

Daryl hums. It's common enough practice, he knows that, and would mean no more than if Glenn or Carl had done it.

"I know I'm…not okay," Rick whispers. "But I can't tell if I just feel better than I seem, or if I'm genuinely better than I feel I should be, or not? I don't know. I think I'm okay and then something just happens and it's like Negan's here again and I can feel myself panicking."

"It's okay to not be okay," Daryl whispers, his voice low and raspy.

"I trusted Shane to take care of me, to know what I needed." Rick's eyes flash to Daryl's, meeting his dark gaze. "And I trust you. More than anyone else. But I don't expect you to know what I need either."

Daryl bites his lower lip, his eyes slowly tracing Rick's face, his shoulders, his curled fingers. He moves his hand slowly, giving Rick time to pull away, and gently rests it on the nape of Rick's neck. Since Rick cut his hair, his neck is exposed. Daryl's hand is big and warm, the calluses familiar on Rick's skin. He shivers, eyelids drooping, the compulsive need to go lax overtaking his body.

"I remember the first time you let me kiss you," Daryl murmurs. His voice is soothing and Rick doesn't feel like a child, like an invalid. It's not like Aaron or Michonne or Carl when Daryl speaks to him. They interact as equals, despite the implied status difference in their species. Daryl's thumb traces the thin, white line of the mating scar on the side of Rick's neck. Daryl didn't bite him until the prison, until Shane and Lori were gone.

"I want you to kiss me," Rick whispers, forcing his lips to form the words. Daryl lets out a shaky breath. "I want you to touch me. All the time."

"Then I will," Daryl replies, as solemn and sacred as a wedding vow. His hand tightens, just for a brief second, on Rick's nape and Rick shivers, bowing his head forward and arching up into the touch. Daryl's other hand comes forward, gently grazing his knuckles against Rick's clean-shaven jaw. He cups Rick's face and turns him and leans in, kissing him chastely.

"I don't smell like him, do I?" Rick asks.

Daryl shakes his head. "You smell like no one owns you," he replies.

"Change that." Daryl's hands tighten and Rick shivers again. "Please?"

Daryl nods, claiming Rick's mouth in another chaste kiss. His hand moves from Rick's nape to his hair, curling tightly, and he rises to his feet, pulling Rick upright without breaking the kiss. Rick gasps, heat and love curling up tight in his chest and making it difficult to breathe.

"Follow me," Daryl whispers, and lets go of Rick as he starts to head up the stairs. Rick nods and follows one step behind and Daryl goes to the first bedroom at the top of the landing. It's barren inside, the Saviors took the mattress and all that's left are a haphazard stretch of sheets and pillows. Daryl closes the door behind them.

He takes Rick and turns them, pressing him against the door. Rick shivers, grabbing a tight hold of Daryl's shoulders as his Alpha plasters himself up against Rick's chest, kissing him deeply, one hand in his hair to hold him still, the other pressed still so-gently to his flank. Unlike with Negan, Rick feels his body kickstart immediately, heat and desire rushing down his spine to pool in his gut.

Daryl has never had trouble getting Rick to react. There have been times when even a look from his mate has made Rick feel this way, trembling and hot, desperate for a kiss or touch to sooth his nerves and send him flying.

Daryl pulls back, breathing hard, his eyes dark and his cheeks turning red. Then, slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of Rick. Rick lets out a breathless moan as Daryl's hands go to his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them and pulling the clothing down to his thighs.

"Daryl," he whispers, gasping when Daryl smiles up at him and tugs his underwear down to expose his cock. Rick shivers and bites back a breathless whimper as Daryl circles his cock with one hand and takes him into his mouth, sucking lightly on the head of his cock as it starts to fill and harden in his hand. "Fuck, Daryl, you don't gotta -."

Daryl purrs, the vibration teasing at the head of Rick's cock, and Rick's words get choked in his throat. He grits his teeth, whining when Daryl takes more of him into his mouth, his hands flattening on Rick's hips to keep him still as he sucks Rick down. Rick shivers, lifting one hand to bite at his knuckles. Daryl's mouth is tight and hot and wet, it feels amazing and Rick's body is throwing itself heartily into it, its knows the scent and touch and sight of its mate.

Daryl doesn't move his hands, even though Rick can feel himself getting slick, feel it start to leak out of him and stain his thighs. His Alpha is purring, the vibrations feel so fucking good. Rick puts his free hand in Daryl's hair and fists tight.

Daryl groans, tilting his head to one side to take Rick deeper, and Rick pushes his hair from his face so he can see his mate's eyes. There's no red there, nothing to tell Rick that Daryl is angry or not thinking straight. He shivers, gut clenching when Daryl pulls back and teases his tongue against the head of Rick's cock.

"Gonna come," Rick gasps, and Daryl growls and takes him deep again, his hands tightening on Rick's hips to encourage him to fuck forward and chase the orgasm clawing at the back of his neck. Rick is trembling, his knees weak and his heart hammering, and he comes with a choked-off cry, tugging on Daryl's hair and fucking forward so that his cock spills deep down his mate's throat.

Daryl swallows it all and pulls off with a gasp, pushing himself to his feet and claiming a kiss from Rick's gasping mouth. Rick can taste himself on Daryl's tongue and he whimpers, arching against Daryl and pawing at his clothes.

"Off," he gasps, desperately. "Please."

Daryl obeys with a low growl, pulling back so he can yank his shirt over his head. Rick watches him do it, his eyes greedily taking in his mate's strong shoulders, his muscles arms. The scars on his stomach and chest. He lunges for Daryl and kisses him, arching against Daryl desperately as the Alpha holds him, cradling the small of his back to get Rick to grind against him.

Rick can feel Daryl's cock, rubbing against his exposed skin through Daryl's jeans. His nails dig into Daryl's back and shoulders and he moans, his head fuzzy with need. It's like he'd forgotten how good it felt to have an Alpha touch him. With every shuddery breath, every moan he wrenches from Daryl's throat, another of Negan's touches fades away.

"You don't have to," Daryl manages to get out, his voice gritty.

Rick shakes his head and tugs Daryl towards the sheets. Daryl stumbles after him and Rick turns them, shoving Daryl to his knees and then his back on the pallet of sheets. He tugs his shirt over his head and lets it fall on top of Daryl's, before he climbs onto his Alpha's lap and takes him by the hair again, claiming another kiss.

"I don't want any part of me left untouched," he murmurs against Daryl's mouth. Daryl shivers underneath him, hands flattening on Rick's sides. Rick can feel Daryl's erection between his legs, and he wants it. He wants Daryl inside of him, covering him, reclaiming every inch of soiled ground on Rick's skin.

Daryl surges up and rolls them, pinning Rick onto his back. "I'm gonna," he promises. He kisses Rick desperately and it reminds Rick that Daryl has gone just as long without touching him, without kissing him. He's had to watch the marks on Rick grow and know he's not the one that put them there. "Fuck, Rick, you smell so fuckin' good."

Rick shivers, biting his lower lip. Daryl's scent is sharp with arousal, his eyes wide and black, and when he pulls back he looks like he did the first time Rick let Daryl mount him. His mouth is slack, his fingers shaking and adoring as they touch Rick's bared chest.

Rick lifts his hips and Daryl licks his lower lip, tugging on Rick's clothes until he's naked on the sheets. Daryl follows suit quickly and it's one more way in which he's different, in which this is nothing like with Negan. Daryl doesn't hesitate to expose himself to Rick's eyes, to make himself just as vulnerable and bare as his Omega.

"I love you," Rick whispers, because he can't not say it. Daryl's shoulders roll, like the words hit him as a physical thing. He covers Rick like water, melting against him, their bodies slotting in the way they used to so easily. It's like the last weeks never happened, like Daryl was just gone for a long time and now their instincts, their bodies are eager to reunite. Daryl kisses Rick's jaw and his cheek and his bruised neck and Rick doesn't feel any of the ache.

"I love you," Daryl replies after another breathless, quiet moment. "Only thing keepin' me sane was knowin' I was gonna have you like this again. I knew it was gonna happen."

Rick swallows hard enough that his throat clicks, and Daryl draws back. His hands run down Rick's chest, to his thighs, and Rick spreads his legs to let Daryl kneel between them. His cock is starting to harden again, drunk on the scent of Daryl in his lungs and the taste of him on his tongue.

Daryl bites his lower lip, looking down at the shine of slick on Rick's thighs. "I know he hurt you," he says quietly.

"I don't care," Rick bites out.

"I do," Daryl replies, steady and calm. Rick can see the bruising on his shoulders – it looks like Negan hit him with his bat, on the same arm Dwight shot him in. There's dark bruises there and Rick remembers Daryl said they didn't physically hurt him and wonders how he could have said that. Maybe it doesn't matter to Alphas. "Tell me if I hurt you."

Rick nods, his thighs trembling as Daryl touches them, smooths his hands out slowly down the pale insides. Then he lets go with one hand and gently touches Rick's slick hole with one finger. It doesn't hurt, not yet, but Rick can't help tensing up.

Daryl lifts his eyes and Rick whines. "Please, Daryl," he says. Daryl nods, sucking in a breath, and gently starts to press one finger inside.

It does hurt. The way Negan knotted him, forcing his knot in and out when it was fully swollen, had caused Rick to tear, and he knows it's still healing. Daryl slides his finger in a little more deeply, brushing upwards, and Rick gasps, tilting his head back against the pillow.

"You alright?" Daryl asks, his other hand gently petting Rick's thigh.

Rick nods. His slick is making it easy for Daryl to slide into him, Rick barely remembers the last time he had gotten this slick this quickly. Daryl's finger slides all the way inside and presses up and Rick trembles, moaning softly in encouragement.

"F-feels good," he gasps, because Daryl is going so slowly, so hesitantly, and it aches. "It always feels good when you touch me."

Daryl smiles, this startled and breathless thing. "Good," he replies. He pulls his finger back and pushes it in again and it stings but it feels good, too. Rick doesn't care, his body knows Daryl, it knows the feeling of his mate and he's slick and relaxed and the whole room smells like Daryl's scent and his chest feels tight.

Daryl starts to work in a second finger and Rick moans, arching his hips up to encourage Daryl to go deeper, to touch that spot that feels so good when it's pressed against. Daryl finds it quickly, he always has, and Rick gasps when Daryl brushes his prostate with a sure, light touch.

"I want you to come for me again," Daryl says, his other hand leaving Rick's thigh and wrapping around his cock, stroking slowly in time with the movement of his fingers. Rick moans weakly, starting to sweat and tremble with how good it feels. Daryl thrusts his fingers a little harder, crooking them up so it feels like he's touching the base of Rick's cock from the inside and Rick whimpers, biting his lower lip hard.

He reaches down and holds Daryl's forearm loosely, feeling the way his arm flexes with the movement of his hand on Rick's cock. Daryl twists his hand, tightening his grip at the head of Rick's cock and presses his fingers deep, touching his prostate with merciless intent. Rick feels Daryl's eyes on his neck, his heaving chest, watching each jump and twitch and Rick growls, clenching his eyes tightly shut and baring his teeth as Daryl forces him through another orgasm. It drags out of him slowly, clawed down the side of the cliff face by his nails, and he arches up into Daryl's hands as he comes, spilling hot and wet over his chest.

Daryl lets his cock go and pulls his fingers out and Rick watches with wide eyes as he lifts his slick fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. His chest goes tight with arousal when he hears the deeply satisfied growl Daryl lets out at the taste of him.

Then, Daryl prowls over him, kissing his slack mouth and stealing his hard-won air. Rick feels Daryl's cock rut against his stomach, hard and a dark red, wet at the tip like Daryl gets when he's really turned on. He kisses his Alpha and wraps a hand around Daryl's cock, stroking slow and tight.

Daryl growls, baring his teeth against Rick's lips, and pulls back to rest their foreheads together. "You're still sore," he whispers. "I shouldn't."

"Please," Rick begs. "I need you to."

Daryl's eyes meet his, sharp and burning, and he nods slowly, nuzzling Rick. "It'll be easier for you on your stomach," he says.

Rick sucks in a sharp breath. "No," he says, pressing his hands tightly against Daryl's chest as though Daryl had started to force him onto his stomach. He can't let Daryl see the words Negan carved into his back. "No, you can't -."

Daryl kisses him, silencing his protest. "You think less'a me 'cause'a my scars?" he asks. "The ones my daddy gave me?" Rick shakes his head. "Then why you think I'm gonna think less'a you 'cause'a yours?"

"It's not the same," Rick says.

"I'm not gonna make ya," Daryl murmurs, kissing him again. "Not gonna force you to do anythin'. But I know you're mine, no matter what he did to you."

Rick swallows harshly, closing his eyes as Daryl rests their foreheads together again. He slides his hands from Daryl's chest, up into his hair, gasping when Daryl gently touches his chest, above where his heart is pounding against his ribs.

Even with how long he and Daryl have been together, it is a natural fact that Omegas take knots easier on their hands and knees. It's the way their bodies are built, they way they naturally evolved to take their mates. It gives Alphas easier access to their necks to keep them still and submissive when they're knotted, it gives them the satisfaction of feeling their mate's weight against their backs, and lets Alphas keep watch and protect them while they're knotted should a challenger or another predator come along.

Rick knows all of this. Even when they fuck facing each other, they've usually had to turn to that position when it comes time for Daryl to knot him. It'll hurt if Rick insists on it being the other way, and his body is in no position to be tested.

Daryl lets him think, pressing gentle kisses to his forehead, his cheek, his jaw, his neck. His hands pet over Rick's exposed, warm skin, tracing lines in the sweat and memorizing the feeling of Rick's muscles and flesh under his hands.

Finally, Rick nods. If Daryl wants it, it's his right to demand it of Rick. He won't, though. It's Rick's choice, and that more than anything makes all the difference.

"Let me kneel for you," he says, and Daryl pulls back to let him roll over onto his stomach. His body falls into the mounting position easily, as deeply entrenched in his muscle memory as the instinct to breathe or the feeling of falling asleep.

Daryl lets out a shaky breath, his hands resting lightly on Rick's hips as Rick falls to his elbows and bows his head. He closes his eyes and shivers when Daryl kisses over the words Negan cut into his skin, and Daryl's hands slide up his flanks and find his wrists, wrapping tight.

Rick feels Daryl's cock slide against his slick hole, rutting briefly to get his cock wet, and then he pulls his hips back and his cockhead catches on Rick's hole. Rick is relaxed and his ass is slick enough that he sinks in easily, splitting Rick apart.

Rick whines, shaking under Daryl's weight. Negan never rested on him like this, never covered him and bit at his neck or touched him with such reverence. He recognizes the catch in Daryl's breath, pleasure flooding him as he sinks into Rick's welcoming body. He knows the way Daryl's fingers flex on his wrists, slide up his forearms, hook around his shoulders. He understands the feeling of Daryl's mouth at his nape, licking and sucking a dark mark onto the skin there.

Daryl sinks into him deeply, until his thighs connect with the back of Rick's, and Rick lets out a breath that sounds like a sob. He has Daryl back, his _mate_ is with him, covering him like he always has. He reaches back and catches Daryl's hair, forcing him to cover him more, thrust more deeply inside of him, and his head is swimming and he feels two seconds away from passing out and he's not sure if he wants to cry or laugh.

"S'just me," Daryl growls, like he needs to. Like Rick's body doesn't recognize him so completely. Rick bows his back and spreads his knees a little wider, lowering himself to the ground so that it's easier for his mate to mount him. The wooden floor is hard on his knees and his body aches from the abuse it's suffered, but Daryl takes that away and soothes him deep enough Rick thinks he might feel it in his soul.

"I know," he says, because Daryl is being still, waiting for him. "I know it's you. _Fuck_."

Daryl shivers, pulling back and sinking in again, his cock splitting Rick's sensitive insides so gently. Rick tugs on his hair and arches his hips with an encouraging, wanton sound. His hands tighten on Rick's body and he starts up a slow, deep rhythm that Rick feels in his throat.

He opens his mouth wide on the back of Rick's neck and licks his nape. His hands find Rick's chest, tease his nipples and each touch, each thrust, is another fissure of pleasure lighting Rick up from the inside. Daryl groans, resting his forehead against Rick's hair, and starts to fuck him in earnest once he's sure Rick is okay, that Rick's body can take him.

Rick puts his weight on one arm and reaches back, stroking his cock slowly as Daryl fucks him. "Fuck, _yes_ ," Daryl growls, when Rick clenches up around him and gasps as Daryl's cock brushes his prostate. "Wanna make you feel good, Rick, never gonna leave you again, I promise." Rick moans, the play talk hitting him hard behind the eyes. His body craves it, like his last two orgasms didn't even matter. He thinks he could spend the rest of his life with Daryl touching him and talking to him and it wouldn't be enough.

"Daryl, _please_ ," Rick gasps, pressing his forehead against his arm and biting down to try and stifle his moans. "Please, come in me. Keep touchin' me, I need -."

"I'm here," Daryl whispers, his hands cupping Rick's hips to hold him still as his thrusts gain more force, more power. He's close, Rick knows what he sounds like when he's about to knot, how his breath catches and his voice gets quiet and raspy. "Gonna spend the rest of my life doin' this, swear, every Goddamn day."

Rick whimpers, tightening his hand on his cock. Daryl's cock fills him perfectly, even as sore and sensitive as he is. He starts to bear down, gasping as he keeps touching his cock and arching back, meeting Daryl thrust for desperate thrust. Daryl is starting to slow down, fucking in deep, itching the base of his cock to get his knot to grow.

Daryl snarls and his hands go back to Rick's shoulders, holding him still, pinning him down, and he noses Rick's sweaty hair away from his neck and opens his mouth wide and bites. It doesn't break the skin, there's no need to lay a mating mark twice, but it hurts and it jolts Rick's instincts and he comes with a loud, sharp cry of Daryl's name. He lets go of his cock, too sensitive to keep touching it, and claws at the sheets, body rolling with every one of Daryl's thrusts.

Daryl chokes on his next breath and goes still, hands flying to Rick's hips to pull him back and force him to keep still as his knot starts to swell. Daryl's knot is bigger than Negan's but Rick knows what it feels like, he knows how to move his hips just right and relax to take it. Daryl growls, sucking around the bite mark he just left, and shudders as he starts to come.

Rick feels it inside him, heavy and warm, and he whimpers. He's not sure if it's a sound of relief, of satisfaction, or something in between. Daryl's hands turn gentle and he licks over the mark he left on Rick's neck, petting and soothing him with a quiet rumble that Rick can feel against his back.

It's instinct to go to his stomach so he does, sighing contentedly when Daryl covers him, kissing his shoulders and petting through his hair. "I'm never gonna stop touchin' you," Daryl confesses. Rick turns his head and Daryl cups his jaw to help the kiss Rick steals from Daryl's lips. Rick clenches down around Daryl's knot, a shivery aftershock ripping through his core, and he whimpers against Daryl's mouth.

He feels settled, exhausted, as Daryl's come floods him and it feels fucking _right_. Daryl doesn't stop petting him, kissing any inch of exposed skin he can reach. Rick knows it's been a while for Daryl, it's likely that his knot will last a long time, and it will cement the bond between them again and rebuild it on a foundation forged from fire and salt. Rick knows that when it goes down, he'll be able to turn and kiss his Alpha, tease him with his slick and his scent, and coax another knot out of Daryl. And another. And another. Until he's satisfied and until his head stops spinning.

Daryl pulls back, kissing his cheek. "How you feelin'?" he asks.

Rick smiles. His cheeks hurt from smiling. "Just keep touchin' me," he says.

"Yes, sir," Daryl replies. Teasing. It startles a happy laugh out of Rick.

 

 

Rick stirs, awoken by the sound of the gates opening and cars driving in. He sits bolt upright, breath catching at the sound, and scrambles to his feet and to the window. The window is angled towards the gates and he watches with wide eyes as it opens and -.

It's Glenn. Rick recognizes the car. A few more follow him in and Rick sees Glenn get out. Then Jesus. Maggie. The Hilltop doctor – he must have escaped the Sanctuary and been found on the road. He recognizes more of Hilltop pouring out of the cars and it takes a second for him to calm his trembling hands and register the fact that there are no big, black trucks. No whistles. No Lucille. No Negan.

He feels eyes on his neck and goes tense, looking over his shoulder to see Daryl sitting upright, watching him. The Alpha looks far better rested than he did earlier. There are bruises along his chest and neck from Rick's mouth. His hair is disheveled, the best combination of bedhead and ravished. His eyes are bright, his shoulders lax.

Rick licks his lips and rubs a hand over his nape. His fingers are shaking.

"S'just me," Daryl whispers.

Rick nods. "I know," he says. He takes a deep breath and the room stinks of them both, Daryl and Rick and sex and a mated pair thick in the air. He looks outside for another moment, long enough for the gates to close and to see Carl run forward and greet Glenn and Jesus with a warm welcome. He takes a step away from the window and returns to the mess of sheets that make his and Daryl's bed.

Daryl licks his lips. "It's not a quick fix," he says. Because he knows. He knows what it's like to have the shadow of an Alpha, the scars and the bruises and the marks that run deeper than skin, lingering long past the Alpha has gone.

Rick nods again, settling into place beside Daryl. Daryl lays down and Rick rests his head on Daryl's shoulder, closing his eyes when Daryl starts to purr and presses a kiss to Rick's forehead.

"Stay by my side," Rick whispers, gently grazing his fingertips along the discoloration on Daryl's shoulder.

Daryl smiles. "Always."


End file.
